


On The Way

by karasunova



Series: Here We Go [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adulthood, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Not Epilogue Compliant, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, T For Language and Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-01-26 15:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunova/pseuds/karasunova
Summary: Relationships. Work Life. Finding yourself?Growing up and being an actual adult isn't always what it's cut out to be. You try your best or make your friends spend the night at your house to complain about it.From no-show tosser boyfriends to stressful and life-threatening career choices, Hermione and Harry walk, run, and stumble through and over the hurdles that is their 20s.Hermione learns to ground herself. Harry is unaware of the shadows creeping in the corners of his mind.But in the end, they attempt to find comfort in each other, in any way they can.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Series: Here We Go [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1482638
Comments: 43
Kudos: 220





	1. Week 48

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to the prologue to "Where Do We Go From Here?" (the full-length story). The prologue and subsequent full-length story are both inspired by the one-shot of the same title (currently found as Part 3). 
> 
> Reading Part 3 is unnecessary, but you might find it a fun read. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this slice of life, slow-build of friends to lovers story.

Week 48 

Hermione stared at the neatly written note: _ Sorry, can’t make it. Reschedule for next week? _

She scrunched up the parchment and tossed it into the bin. Was it so hard to get her boyfriend to meet up with her parents for dinner? 

She played with the ends of her braid. Was he purposely avoiding this meeting? This was the third time he’s had to cancel dinner plans with her parents. They’ve been dating for five months. It seemed like a reasonable time to introduce Ryan to them. Wasn’t it?

She crossed her arms over her chest. Maybe it was too soon. 

“Knock, knock.” Timothy Ainsworth, the Goblin Office Liaison and Hermione’s coworker, knocked on the open door of her office. “The meeting is going to start. Mr. Sterling won’t be happy if you’re late.” 

She pushed herself away from her desk and grabbed the folder containing the latest statistics coming from the House-Elf Liaison office. 

“What’s got you in a mood?” Ainsworth gave her a sideways glance. 

She sighed. “Nothing.”

He scoffed. “Sure, nothing.” He leaned toward her. “Just a warning, Mr. Sterling looks a little restless, so no wise remarks.”

She smirked. “Me, wise remarks? I don’t think so.” 

Hermione and Ainsworth walked into the meeting room. Hermione took her seat beside Daphne Greengrass, the only employee in the Office of Misinformation. 

“I like the color you have on your nails today, Granger,” Daphne commented. 

Hermione glanced at the pink coloring of her nails. “Thank you.”

A tall, dark-haired man stormed into the meeting room. His brown eyes roamed around the room. Mr. Sterling had arrived and looking paler than usual. “Good, everyone is here. Madam Kane and I have an announcement to make.” He settled himself at the end of the table. “The Minister for Magic has agreed to our request to write an improved legislation regarding werewolves.” 

Hermione perked up in her seat. The Minister had finally listened to their petition?

“Granger, Ainsworth, Hayashi, you three will be working along with me in writing the initial draft. We’ll have another meeting to go over the details. Next item of business,” he pivoted to the next point on the agenda, “a new round of applications for those wishing to join the department have been submitted. Madam Kane, Mrs. Fawley and I will be going over prospective prospects. So, you’ll be seeing people shuffle through the department.” Mr. Sterling moved to another topic and another. He adjourned the meeting by asking for their reports and bidding them a good morning. 

Hermione returned to her office after that whirlwind of a meeting. At her desk, she scribbled out some notes to her friends. She didn’t want to spend the night alone. 

* * *

Harry scanned over the note. Hermione’s familiar script stretched across the parchment. “Ron did you -”

Ron held up a similar note. “You reckon something happened?” 

Harry shrugged, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Nothing bad, I hope.” He stuffed Hermione’s note into his inner cloak pocket. “I’m heading out with Castle. You’ll be alright here?”

Ron waved him off. “I’ll see you later at Hermione’s place.” 

Harry slipped out of the office he shared with Ron and Neville and headed toward the lifts. 

Danielle Castle, senior Auror, was waiting beside one of the lifts. Tonks stood beside her, her hair taking on a lilac color today. 

“Ready, Potter?”

He nodded. As if anyone could be ready when going to Azkaban Prison was on their list of things to do. 

Tonks gripped his shoulder and offered him a small smile. “You want to come over for dinner today? Teddy’s been asking for you.”

He shook his head. “Love too but I’m heading to Hermione’s place later.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He rolled his eyes and shoved her shoulder softly. “It’s not like that.”

“Mmhmm. Sometime soon then. I’ll make Sirius drag you to the house. Bring Hermione too.” 

Tonks waved them goodbye. Harry followed Castle into the designated lift and took a deep breath. 

“Don’t worry yourself too much, Potter,” Castle attempted to appease him. “We should be in and out. We won’t linger.”

Harry stuffed his hands in his cloak pocket. He hated his work cloak. The black color suited him well but more often than not he felt like he was wearing a costume. 

He gave Castle a curt nod. “It’s never easy heading to Azkaban.”

She shook her head. “It never is.”

The lift stopped in a dimly lit alcove far from the atrium. They stepped into a tall fireplace and flooed out of the ministry of magic. 

Moments later, they stepped out of the fireplace in the small cottage that worked as Azkaban Prison’s security checkpoint. 

“Darrow,” Castle greeted the wizard behind the desk, who was writing furiously across a paper with a dull pencil. He sat up in his seat. “Auror Castle, Auror Potter, I’ll inform the guards of your arrival.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darrow.”

Harry and Castle stepped out of the cottage and into the ever-present mist that hovered over the island that housed the prison. 

Upon entering the prison, they were greeted by another guard, Logan McArthur, who Harry was sure fancied the Auror standing beside him. 

Castle flashed him a grin and McArthur visibly gulped. “Gorecki has been placed in room 103 for questioning.”

“Thank you, Mr. McArthur.” Castle strode past him. 

They reached the room and switched places with the guards inside. The scruffy haired man sitting in the chair looked at them with disdain. His cuffs were attached to the table but Harry was sure if he had more leeway, Gorecki would be leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the table. 

“Auror Castle, Auror Potter,” he sneered. “What a nice surprise.”

* * *

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Visualizing the space he wanted to disapparate too. Hermione’s sitting room came to mind. The brown sofa, the blue rug in front of the front door. 

He suddenly felt grateful for the invitation to come over. He needed his friend's company after a tough day. 

He took another breath and disapparated. 

The sound of apparition was drowned out by the music blaring from Hermione’s stereo. “A whole new world! A new fantastic point of view!”

Harry looked around and found her lying on the floor in front of the telly, her arms, and legs spread wide. 

She sat up and turned down the stereo. “Glad you could come over. Is Ron coming?” 

“Yes.” Harry slid his jacket off and tossed it over the armchair, walking around the sofa and laying down on the floor beside her. “What’s this song?”

She laid back down. “A Whole New World from Aladdin.”

He kicked his shoes off and pushed them away. “Never heard of it.”

She whipped her head to the side. “You’ve never seen Aladdin?”

He shook his head.

She groaned. “We’ll watch it later.”

Harry stared at the ceiling. “So, weren’t you supposed to have that big dinner tonight? You, your parents and what’s-his-name?”

Hermione didn’t answer. She kept singing under her breath. 

Did she hear him? “Hermione?”

“Ryan canceled,” she said softly. “Again.”

Harry reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Hermione.” 

She sighed and moved slightly closer, nudging her head into his shoulder. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to think or feel about this.” 

“How you’re _ supposed _ to - well, what do you think or feel?”

“I’m mad,” she spat out. “I’m sad that he keeps doing this. It makes me wonder if he has any desire to meet them. Is he nervous? I’ve told him all about them. My parents are friendly!”

Harry nodded in agreement. Howard and Nicole Granger always welcomed him into their home with warm hugs and good food. Howard was the one he liked to talk football with and listened with a kind smile whenever Harry spouted off about Quidditch. Nicole always made his favorite food and always seemed to have a new shirt for him whenever he came by - because she thought he’d like it. 

“They’re not complicated,” Hermione continued, “they like going on walks and museums as much as they like going to symphonies and rock concerts or camping.”

Ron appeared by the front of the door. Harry waved at him and pointed at the space beside Hermione. Ron’s brows rose in concern. He stepped around the couch and laid down on Hermione’s other side. 

“Like, I understand getting nervous. I was nervous whenever someone introduced me to their parents, but it didn’t stop me from meeting them.” She turned toward Ron. “What do you do when someone asks you to meet their parents?”

“Freak out a little bit,” Ron answered. 

Hermione glowered. 

Ron chuckled. “Come on, Hermione.” He patted her thigh. “It’s a big step, meeting someone’s parents. It means they’re interested in making the relationship work long-term.” 

“So, if someone keeps pushing off the ‘meet the parents’ does that mean they’re not interested in a long-term relationship?”

Ron stiffened. “Well, not necessarily, but sometimes.”

“It’s not like I’m asking him to marry me,” she grumbled. 

“Is Ryan a pureblood?” Harry asked. 

“No, he’s a half-blood, but his family sticks mainly to the wizarding world.”

“Maybe that’s it,” Harry traced the inside of her forearm, “he could be feeling nervous about meeting muggles.”

“But, I’m not throwing him out into the middle of the muggle world. It’s just a quiet dinner with my parents. All three meetings were going to happen here.”

“This isn’t fair,” she said after a few moments of silence. 

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Harry whispered. 

Ron leaned his head on her shoulder. “Sorry, Mione.” 


	2. Week 47

Week 47

Hermione sat at her small kitchen table and applied her makeup. Harry and Ron sat in her living room, playing on her Nintendo Gamecube. 

“So, you’re meeting the parents!” Ron called out. He moved side to side, attempting to control his race car even though the control was in his hands. 

“ _ His _ parents,” she emphasized as she finished applying mascara. She made no comment about the canceled dinner the week before. 

“You nervous?” Harry asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes trained on the telly. 

“Yes.” She carefully put on her lipstick and then stuffed her makeup away and taking it back to her bedroom. She picked up her perfume and spritzed it over herself. She walked back right as Harry jumped to his feet with a triumphant yell. 

“How do I look?” Hermione stood behind the couch. Her navy blue dress stopped mid-calf and pinched slightly at the waist. 

Ron kicked Harry and then turned, leaning over the back of the couch. “You look beautiful, Hermione.” He made a circle in the air with his finger. “Alright, make a turn.”

She turned, her heels sounding softly against the wood floor. 

Harry smiled. His eyes fall on her bare collar bone and the silver chain necklace he remembered her parents gifting her on her last birthday. “Ron’s right, you look beautiful.” 

She smiled brilliantly and squeezed Harry’s arm. “You two are the best. Alright, I’m heading out. Stay as long as you want. Just make sure everything is off and locked when you leave and don’t mind Crookshanks.” 

“We know the drill, Hermione,” Harry watched her walk around the room. 

“Have a good night,” she called out before she disapparated. 

Harry stared at the empty space for a few moments before sitting back down. 

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered, “her boyfriend is a lucky bloke.”

Harry picked out a new racing course. “You had your chance, Ron.”

“I know and I don’t regret it. Ending it and I don’t regret being her boyfriend. It was good for both of us, I think.” 

“But,” Harry sensed his friend wasn’t finished. 

“But,” Ron picked up, “I can’t help wondering, every now and then, what could have been. Don’t you wonder?”

“What could have been between you and Hermione? No.” He picked the next cup on their racing game. Well, perhaps he did at some point. He thought they were a done deal, but apparently, he was wrong. 

“Not me and Hermione.” Ron rolled his eyes. “You and Hermione.”

He choked. “Me? What about me?” 

Ron groaned. “Don’t you ever wonder what could happen between you and Hermione? You know, if you ever got together.” 

“No,” Harry snapped. “She’s my friend.”

“She’s my friend too.” Ron jabbed at the control. Then he began to laugh. “Don’t lie. I know you have. I think everyone does at some point or another, think about what it would be like to date a friend. It’s just a few of us who go through with it.” 

Harry didn’t answer him. 

They played a few more cups on Mario Kart before they called it a night. Ron headed home while Harry made sure everything was put back in place, turning off the telly and lights. He gave Crookshanks a quick goodbye, checked the locks, and disapparated. 

He arrived outside his girlfriend’s door. It was late, but he knew Carlie would be up. So, he knocked and within moments the door opened. Black smudged blue eyes peeked around the doorframe. 

“Hey, Harry!” She pulled the door open and planted a firm kiss on his mouth. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled into a high pony-tail and she looked dressed to go out. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

She stepped into the flat before he could question her. 

“Are you heading to the pub like that?” She swiped on some lip gloss. “You know, if you’d kept some clothes here we wouldn’t have to worry about how you look when we go out.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d forgotten Carlie had planned on going out for drinks. He glanced down at his black slacks and a navy blue work shirt. “This will work.”

She looked over her shoulders. Her eyes roamed over his figure. “Yeah, it’ll work.”

* * *

This wasn’t really how he wanted to start his day. 

Harry cringed as he held back Carlie’s hair and looked away as she puked into the toilet. He scrunched his nose at the sight and sound. He was constantly telling her she shouldn’t drink so much, downing drink after drink until she was completely pissed and blacking out. 

And here they were again - with her head glued to the toilet. 

Another morning. Same old routine. 

She finally stopped and pushed his hands away, staggering to the sink to clean herself up. 

He left the bathroom without a word. He grabbed his jacket from the back of her sofa, making sure he had his wand, wallet, and cellphone still in place. 

“What time are you coming by later?” Carlie strolled into the living room like she didn’t just spend the last ten minutes throwing up her insides. 

“For what?” He slipped his jacket on. 

“For John’s birthday. It’s at the pub.”

He sighed. “The pub again? Are you going to drink again?”

“Well, yeah,” she looked at him like he just said something stupid. She grabbed a honey-colored potion from her cupboard. She shook it and drank it swiftly. “See, all better.” 

He shook his head and made his way to the door. “Doesn’t change what it does to your body. Don’t you get tired of binge drinking?”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Harry. It’s nothing. We’re just having fun.”

“I don’t think it’s fun.” He grabbed the doorknob. 

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” He pulled the door open. 

“What? Wait. What about tonight?”

“I’m not going.” He stood in the doorway. He spent so many weekends hanging out with people he didn’t particularly like and watching them drink endlessly - it was tiring and grating on his nerves to see so many people under the influence like that. Talking nonsense or making complete fools of themselves. 

“What am I supposed to tell my friends when I arrive with no boyfriend?”

He shrugged. “Tell them you don’t have one.”

“What?”

“Bye, Carlie.”

“Harry!”

He disapparated and appeared on the front stoop of Dogwood Garden, the home he shared with Sirius. He entered the house and went straight to the kitchen. 

“Harry, you’re here!” Sirius sat up at the kitchen counter. 

Harry blinked. “Well, yeah, I live here.”

Sirius smirked. “Sure, but you didn’t sleep here last night. I figured you’d be late coming home this morning.”

Harry turned away, feeling his cheeks heat up. He poured himself some coffee. 

“Hermione said she’ll be coming around in a little bit.”

His mug clattered against the counter. “Hermione?”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. “Yes. She’s coming over to spend time with Teddy. We have him this weekend remember?”

Harry added some sugar to his coffee. “I remember Teddy is coming over, but I didn’t know Hermione was coming.”

Sirius shrugged. “I invited her.”

“When?”

“Today. I called her about half an hour ago.”

* * *

“One, two, three.” Hermione tapped her game piece along the board. “ I suspect Prof. Plum, with the candlestick, in the kitchen. Sirius?” 

Sirius hid a grin behind his play cards. He flipped through them and showed her the kitchen card. 

She sighed and crossed it off her clue list. 

Sirius picked up the dice and rolled. He moved his piece into the dining room. “I suspect Prof. Plum, in the dining room, with the rope. Harry?”

Harry blinked and shuffled through his cards. He presented one to his godfather. 

“Damn it!” Sirius scratched his pencil harshly against his clue list. 

Hermione giggled. She pushed her hair over her shoulder and waited for Harry to take his turn. He rolled the dice and moved his piece into the ballroom. “Prof. Plum, with the candlestick, in the ballroom. Hermione?”

She bit her lip. She didn’t have the ballroom card. She turned to Harry and shook her head. 

“Sirius?” 

He shuffled through his cards quickly. “Ballroom. Plum. Candlestick? Harry, what the hell?”

Harry leaned back and grinned. “Neither of you have any cards?”

Hermione shook her head. Sirius slammed his cards against the table and grabbed the small envelope. He opened the envelope and threw down the cards: Prof. Plum. Candlestick. Ballroom. 

“Harry, how do you do that?” He threw his hands in the air. 

Harry shot him a triumphant smile. “Intuition.”

Hermione laughed out loud. “You’re ridiculous.”

His smile widened. “You’re just jealous of my skills.” 

She scoffed. “Yeah, right. Mr. Potter, Clue extraordinaire.” 

Tonks burst into the living room. “Alright you two, enough flirting. Teddy is here.” 

“We’re not flirting,” Hermione and Harry said at the same time. 

Teddy hopped around his mother and threw himself against Sirius. “What’s flirting?” 

Sirius wagged his eyebrows at the boy in his arms. “It’s the way people talk or act when two people like each other.”

Teddy stuck out his bottom lip. “Of course Harry and Mai are flirting, they’re best friends.” He brought his hands together. “That means me and Mai flirt too, right? Because we like each other.” 

Sirius blanched, but Hermione chuckled. She got to her feet and pulled Teddy out of Sirius’s arms. “Not quite, but that’s the idea. Let’s go find something to play with in the playroom.”

Hand in hand, Hermione and Teddy walked out of the living room.

Tonks whacked Sirius in the shoulder. “What the hell, Sirius?”

He shrugged. “What? You’re the one who brought up flirting. Take your husband and get out of here. We don’t need your romantic nonsense here.”

Harry stretched to his feet. “Well, that’s what you two get for jumping to conclusions. Hermione and I are just friends.” 

“Harry!” Teddy’s yelled. “Come make a puzzle with me!”

Sirius and Tonks shared a glance. 


	3. Week 46

Week 46

Hermione carefully held the box filled with snacks up the stairs, watching the (almost) six-year-old boy walking up in front of her. 

She initially grimaced at the sight of the sugar-infused and greasy food, but the chocolate covered pretzels were looking good right about now. 

Teddy burst into their private box, greeting the friends already there. “I got cotton candy!”

Ron stood from his seat and ruffled Teddy’s turquoise hair. “What else did you get, Teddy?”

Ron took the box from Hermione’s hands and led her to the seats he set aside for her and Teddy. 

Teddy had bounded toward Fred and George and began chattering about what he did in school. 

“And I’m completely ignored,” Ron pouted. 

Hermione squeezed his hand and sat down in her seat, sighing. She’d been on her feet all day and she just wanted to rest. “He doesn’t mean anything by it,” she tried to reassure him, “he just gets really excited.”

Ron shrugged. “I’ve come to terms with the fact that Fred and George are his favorite.”

She giggled at that, watching said Weasley men show Teddy their new bubble wand product. 

“How’s Fred doing?” She murmured. 

Ron grabbed the basket of fried chicken from the snack box. “He got outfitted with a new leg last week. I told you about that, right? Well, it seems to be working better than the last one. Hopefully, this will be the one he uses long term.”

“That’s good to hear.” Hermione glanced to the front row, settling on Fred’s profile. He didn’t look like he was in pain, not like he did before. They didn’t come out of the Battle of Hogwarts completely unscathed. Fred had lost a leg. Ron had to heal two broken arms and battled through extensive therapy. Charlie, the foolish man he is, broke his back. Even Neville received severe burns. He still had scars of them on his shoulders and back. She was sure Harry and Sirius had come out with some form of Post-Traumatic Stress, but Harry was less inclined to admit it. 

They were all physically better now, but some wounds can take longer to heal. 

Ron swallowed a bite of chicken. “You have Teddy for tonight?” 

She nodded, munching on a pretzel. 

“Oh. Fred and George are having a get together at their place after the match.”

Her eyes widened. “What if the match runs a few hours?”

Ron scoffed. “Please, this is Ginny and the Hollyhead Harpies. Their matches don’t run longer than two hours. Ever.”

Hermione laughed too. “That’s true.” 

Soon enough, the match began. Teddy cycled between his seat beside Hermione and sitting with the twins. Eating cotton candy, little chicken sandwiches, and eating his ice cream. 

An hour into the match, Harry arrived with Carlie, taking the pair of seats beside Ron, sandwiching their tall friend in the middle of the row. 

Carlie said a quick hello before sitting down and garnering all of Harry’s attention. Her arm wrapped around his and her leg over his thigh. 

Ron gave Hermione a wide-eyed look and gestured his head to the side. He grimaced and stuck his tongue out. Hermione giggled under breath, but secretly hoped Teddy wasn’t paying attention to his godfather and his girlfriend’s actions. 

Half an hour later, Teddy sat down on Hermione’s lap and placed his hand on her cheek. “I’m tired, Mai.” 

“Time to go home, Teddy-bear?” 

He nodded against her collar bone. 

Hermione set the empty snack box on Ron’s lap. “We’re going home now.”

“Right now? The match is almost over. I can feel it.” 

She shook her head. “Teddy’s falling asleep.” 

“Alright.” Ron stood up and helped Hermione get to her feet, making sure she didn’t drop the boy. 

Hermione expertly moved Teddy so he could lay against her more comfortably. His head resting on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her neck. 

Ron followed her to the door to their private suite. “Ginny will understand when I tell her you had Teddy tonight.”

“I hope so. But, let her know I’m still up for brunch tomorrow.”

“I will.”

“Hermione?” Harry stumbled to his feet, hurrying to the door. “You’re leaving?”

She adjusted her hold on Teddy. “I have to take him home.”

“I’ll walk you down.” 

She looked around his shoulder. Carlie sat relaxed in her seat. 

Harry followed her gaze. “We’ll walk you down. We were going to head out anyway. Carlie,” he called out. 

The blonde stood up with a sigh and joined them at the door. Her eyes brightened at the sight of Hermione. “Oh, your son is so cute. How old is he?”

Hermione blinked. She glanced at Harry who looked resigned and tired. 

She gave Carlie a small smile. “He’s five.” Unwilling to spare Carlie details of her life, she began walking down the steps toward the public floo. 

* * *

Ron handed Harry a bottle of butterbeer. “Did your girlfriend honestly ask Hermione about her ‘son’?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. He sipped on his butterbeer and looked around the room for said girlfriend. Carlie was standing beside Ginny and Fred, drinking what was probably her fourth or fifth bottle of Molten Vanilla Ale. 

“I thought you two broke up,” Ron muttered under his breath. 

Harry shrugged. “We did, but we decided to give it another try.”

“You broke up like a week ago though.” Ron downed the rest of his butterbeer. 

Harry squeezed the neck of his bottle. “We’re just trying again, alright?” 

Ron held his hand up. “Alright, alright.” 

Harry sipped on his butterbeer and watched his girlfriend interact with his friends, one of which was his ex-girlfriend. Carlie didn’t seem to have an issue with it. He thought back to an ex-girlfriend of his who didn’t like the fact that he still talked and hung out with Ginny. 

Which he didn’t understand at first. There was nothing between them, but Hermione had sat him down and tried to make him understand what his girlfriend was feeling. While he understood now, at the time, he didn’t want to force one of his oldest friends out of his life for a woman he didn’t envision staying with for a long time. So, they broke up. 

Carlie was a whole different person. She didn’t mind Ginny. She didn’t mind anyone really. She didn’t seem to care about the people he introduced her too. More often than not, she’d forget their names or what they did and when he slipped similarly with her friends and family, it irked her. She only remembered Ginny because she’s a big Quidditch fan herself. 

He set his empty butterbeer bottle aside. What was he doing? Carlie was pretty and funny, but he didn’t want to bring her home to Sirius, Remus, and Tonks. He wasn’t looking forward to introducing her to them. 

George joined them on the couch. “Did you too take a look at some of the new products?” He handed Harry a faux-wand. “It makes bubbles when you say certain incantations or wand movements. Teddy liked it a lot.” 

Harry smiled at that. He had watched his godson playing with the wand earlier. “When are they on sale?” 

“In time for summer,” George said. “We’re already giving one of the demos to Teddy for his birthday.” 

“Damn,” Harry hissed under his breath. 

George chuckled. “Did you forget about the little guy’s birthday?”

Harry wiped his hands over his face. Was it going to be April already? 


	4. Week 45

Week 45

“I’m so glad you’re doing okay,” Hermione grabbed Ginny’s arm and rested it in the crook of her’s. 

“Oh, Hermione, there wasn’t anything to be afraid of.” Ginny gazed around their surroundings, taking in the sights of the shopping mall. “It was only a few dozen feet.”

Hermione groaned under her breath. “Sure, but when Ron wrote this morning and said you had fallen last night and went home like it was nothing. It worried me.” 

“Don’t.” Ginny stopped and took Hermione’s hands in hers. “I’m perfectly fine and I’m even cleared to play this coming weekend.”

Hermione sighed but nodded anyway.

Ginny smiled. “Let’s go to this store.” She pulled Hermione into a women’s clothing store and immediately began browsing. 

“So, how are you and Ryan doing?” Ginny asked, picking up a green blouse. 

Hermione shifted through the shirts. “Good, I think,” she mumbled. 

“You think?” Ginny caught her words. “What’s going on?”

She hadn’t spoken her thoughts aloud yet and she didn’t know how to express what she was feeling or thinking. “Ryan is nice, you know that.”

“Right,” Ginny looked at her skeptically, “and handsome to boot.”

Hermione’s cheeks pinkened. “Yes, but he feels distant. I know his week is busy, with cases and meeting clients. I try to get us together when our schedules allow, but we hardly get together. I mean, when we do, we spend a long time together. But they’re so few and far between.” She sighed. 

“And when I do try to get together,” she continued, “he hardly ever wants to do what I suggest. Movies, plays, museums, or just walking around the shopping center. A lot of times it’s me reaching out.”

“It sounds like you’re putting up all the effort in this relationship,” Ginny said softly. “Have you two had sex yet?”

Hermione flushed completely, biting her lip. 

Ginny giggled. “So, you’ve had sex. Listen, here’s something one of my teammates told us when they were having second thoughts about their relationship.” She straightened up. 

“Give him three days. Don’t call,” Ginny shook her head at Hermione’s exasperated look. Ginny knew for a fact that Hermione’s boyfriend wasn’t muggle savvy, especially for a self-proclaimed half-blood. She didn’t know why she brought that up. “Don’t write. Just don’t contact him. Three days. If he doesn’t reach out then it’s not worth the effort you’re putting in. He’ll make his feelings clear.”

Hermione’s shoulders drooped. “And what if he doesn’t write? What do I do?”

Ginny placed her hand on Hermione’s arm and rubbed her lovingly. “Do you love him?”

Hermione grimaced and immediately stilled. Did she love Ryan? They’ve been dating for six months. She didn’t necessarily love him, but she enjoyed her time with him. She liked his sense of humor (it wasn’t too caustic or mean), he’s handsome, and he had a good head on his shoulders. 

But whenever they got together, it looked like he was putting in a lot of effort to just be with her. He wasn’t the type of guy who would casually come over to just _ be _ together. 

Ginny wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She placed a quick kiss on her temple. “Let’s walk some more. I ate a lot at brunch.” 

* * *

It didn’t feel like a typical Wednesday morning for Hermione. She had already rushed through the ministry archives, picked up past legislation regarding werewolves from the Wizengamot administration office, and was now on her way to meet the deputy head for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. 

She greeted the DMLE secretaries and mentioned her meeting with the deputy head. 

“Good morning, Ms. Granger. Head Auror Robards and Madam Abbott are currently in meeting room four and have informed us to let you through.” 

“Thank you.” Hermione strolled through the large room, past the various cubicles that were settled in the middle of the room. Meeting room four was at the other end of the larger room. 

“Wotcher, Hermione!” Tonks bounded toward her. “What brings you by?”

“I have a meeting with Robards and Madam Abbott.” 

Tonks perked an eyebrow at this. “Oh? Top-secret work?”

Hermione grinned. “For now.”

Just then, three familiar men walked through an open door on the left. Harry stopped short, making Ron bump into him and Neville stop in the doorway. 

All three look disheveled and winded and even sweaty. Hermione cringed at the sight of them. “What were you three doing?”

Ron began to whine. “Harry made us do a three-mile run.” 

Hermione laughed aloud. “Really? Well, that’s good, isn’t it? You need to be in top physical form.”

Ron threw his hands in the air. “Not you too.” He pushed past Harry and Hermione and grumbled to their shared office. 

Neville laughed and brought Hermione into a hug. She squealed and pushed him away. “No, you’re all sweaty.” 

He grinned. “Don’t worry about it, you still look as pretty as ever.” 

He joined Ron in the office leaving Hermione with Harry and Tonks. Tonks ruffled Harry’s hair and walked off. 

“Ew, you are sweaty,” they heard her say.

“Hey,” he said under his breath, “have you gotten Teddy a birthday gift?” 

She shook her head. “I know what I want to get him though.” 

“What are you going to get him?” They walked together toward meeting room four. 

“Well, Sirius told me he was getting him a Gamecube and I thought about getting him a game for it.” 

“Why didn’t I think of that?” He examined her face. “Are you free later? Do you want to get something to eat and go look for his gift together?”

She was silent for a moment before nodding. “I’ll meet you at my place, around six?”

* * *

Harry and Hermione examined the Nintendo Gamecube games displayed on the wall. 

“Well, he likes Mario Kart.” Hermione grabbed the game from the wall. 

“There’s a new Mario Party game.” Harry grabbed it. “These two?”

They purchased Teddy’s gifts and left the video game store, walking in pleasant silence. Harry led the way to the Thai restaurant Hermione wanted to try. 

They picked up take out and headed back to Hermione’s flat. They settled on her sofa, turned on the telly, and dug into their food. 

“I broke up with Carlie,” he announced.

She sputtered over the rim of her wine glass. “You did? Are you okay?”

He played with his fork, stabbing it into his food. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I thought you liked her.” She set her glass aside. 

He shrugged. “Sure, but not enough to deal with her.”

“Deal with her? What do you mean?”

“Hermione, she thought Teddy was your son,” he said, exasperated. He held the side of his head. “She always gets Ron’s name wrong and all she wants to do is head to the pub come home and have sex. I broke up with her a few weeks ago and we got together again to give it another try, but I couldn’t do it.” 

“Oh.” Hermione leaned back. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. She seemed nice.”

“She’s nice and all, but I don’t want to go to the pub every weekend and talk about nothing. We’ve never had a real conversation. I was tired of faking it.” 

She understood. She scooped some food into her mouth and contemplated over her own relationship. Ryan hadn’t contacted her in four days. 

* * *

A soft knock sounded at her front door. Hermione groaned and lifted herself off the floor. Who the hell was at her door? She pulled her hair out of her eyes. Was it Ryan?

She scrambled to her feet and flung the front door open. “Oh.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah, hello. Nice to see you too. I brought food.” He held up a plastic bag and a pink pastry box. 

She stepped back and allowed him inside. “You just drop by? What if I was busy?”

Harry shrugged. “I took my chances.” He set the food down on the table. “So, what are you busy doing?”

She glared at his grinning face. “Wallowing in self-pity. You?”

Harry’s eyes skimmed over her figure. Long thick hair up in a bun. Dark-colored sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt. “Trying to hang out with my friend.” 

Hermione reached into the plastic bag and moaned in delight at the sight of Chinese take out. “You want to play Mario Kart?”

Despite his worry over her disheveled appearance and red-rimmed eyes, he smiled at her. “I’d love to.”

They plopped down on her sofa and set up the game. They raced and ate. Raced and ate. 

After two cup races, Harry set his controller down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She pushed her food around the container. 

“Or not, that’s okay. Maybe you’d rather talk to Ginny.”

She shrugged. She took another bite of her food. 

“Is it PMS stuff?” Harry flushed. Merlin, he’s been friends with Hermione for over ten years, it shouldn’t be that embarrassing to talk about.

She chuckled. “No, it’s not. Thanks for asking though.”

He shrugged sheepishly. “Sure.”

She set her food container on the coffee table before her. She turned in her seat to face him. “Ryan hasn’t contacted me for five days.”

He turned toward her. “Okay?”

“Why hasn’t he contacted me? Written a letter? Dropped by my office?” 

Harry gripped his knee. “I don’t know. Is he busy?”

“His hours are nine to four. An hour for lunch. It doesn’t take that much time to write a little note. Right?”

Harry shook his head, wondering if that was the right answer. 

Her eyes watered and she sniffed loudly. She let herself fall onto the back of the sofa. “He doesn’t like me.”

“What? How could you say that? Of course, he likes you.”

“Then why hasn’t he reached out to me? Harry, it’s been almost a week and I haven’t heard a word from him. Who does that?” She fingered the end of her t-shirt. 

Harry leaned his head back. He frowned. He’d done that before - to other girls. But he’s an Auror, he was legitimately busy. Did solicitors have to work overtime? Stress over life and death situations? 

He’d admit, sometimes he did use work as an excuse. He pulled at his jeans, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“Ginny told me to give him three days, but what if he’s not interested in me as much as I thought?”

Harry set his arm along the backside of the couch. “Hermione, look -” he paused when her watery eyes met his. “Oh, come here.”

She scrambled across the couch and wrapped her arms around his torso. He held his arms around her tightly.

He’d save his horrible advice for another day. For now, he’ll hold his sobbing friend until she was done crying over her boyfriend. 

* * *

Harry watched Hermione move through the sitting room. Her hair up in a bun. Sunny yellow blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans and white trainers. Her face was smooth, with no hints of puffiness or red eyes. It was as if she hadn’t cried her eyes out the night before. 

“Everything okay?” Sirius handed him a soda. 

Harry popped it open and took a long sip of the orange-flavored drink. Sirius glanced between Harry and the subject he was following around the room. “Is Hermione alright?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“Did you two get in a fight?” 

“No,” Harry said quickly. 

“Hermione!” Sirius belted and waved his hand over his head. Harry stiffened beside him.

Hermione slowly walked past the horde of children running and playing through the sitting room. Teddy’s neighborhood friends and classmates had descended on the Lupin home for his sixth birthday party. They were all now running on the sugar high from the birthday cake. 

She finally made it to the loveseat and squeezed in between Sirius and the arm of the loveseat. 

Sirius casually rested his arm along the back of the loveseat, his fingers just centimeters away from her shoulder. “You look very pretty today, Hermione.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Sirius.” 

He tapped her shoulder gently, making her giggle. She leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “Hermione,” he kissed the top of her head, “you’re taking care of yourself, right?”

“Of course I am.” 

He squeezed her arm. “That boyfriend is treating you well?”

She hummed under her breath. 

“Oh, shit, the pygmy puffs got out. I’ll be right back.” Sirius jumped to his feet and raced outside. 

Hermione and Harry tried to lean forward to get a look but were soon tackled by a brown-haired six-year-old. Teddy wrapped his arms around Hermione’s neck and placed a wet kiss on Hermione’s cheek. “Thank you for my present, Mai.” 

She hugged him hard. “You’re very welcome, Teddy. Love you.” 

He climbed off her lap and gave Harry the same treatment. He lowered his voice, “Uncle Sirius said that we can race with my new broom when my friends go home.”

Harry tickled his stomach, making Teddy erupt in a fit of giggles. “Does that mean you’re coming over to Dogwood Garden?”

Teddy nodded, “if mama says yes.” 

“Teddy!” Andromeda yelled from the garden. 

Teddy bounced away and ran outside, his little friends running after him. 

Harry wiped his hands on the top of his jeans. He’d never been so conscious of Hermione’s presence before but right now it seemed like he could feel every time she breathed. He felt her shift and from his peripheral vision knew she was facing him with one leg propped on the sofa. 

“Harry?” Her voice was low. 

He crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Did I make things awkward last night?”

He turned abruptly. “What? No.” Her eyes were downcast, concentrating on her shoe. “Are you feeling better?”

She shrugged. “For the most part. I guess I just needed a good cry.” 

He ran his fingers through his hair. “It was hard seeing you breakdown like that,” he admitted, “especially over some bloke.”

“Oh.” She slowly got to her feet and stepped in front of him, the tips of their shoes touching. He looked up and she was smiling gently at him. “I’m going to go help Sirius with the pygmy puffs. It’s not looking so good.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Thanks for being there for me, Harry.” 

She stepped away from the loveseat and out to the garden. 

Harry sighed deeply. “Anytime.” 


	5. Week 44 - 42

Week 44

Neither Harry nor Ron spoke to Hermione much the whole week, but they still descended upon her flat. It was Friday night and time for Harry and Ron’s usual get together which included playing on Hermione’s GameCube. Harry stood in Hermione’s kitchen and watched her bustle back and forth, cleaning up and putting things away. 

“Hermione, you’re a witch,” he announced. 

She threw her hands in the air. “Right.” She waved her wand and the objects in disarray put themselves in their rightful place. 

“Why are you cleaning up for me and Ron? We’re just going to play video games.”

“Ryan is coming to pick me up.” She grabbed her phone and checked for any messages. “Alright, I’m going to take a shower. Don’t touch anything.” 

Harry watched her head off to the bathroom. He turned his attention to Crookshanks who had sauntered in from the bedroom down the hall. “Your witch doesn’t trust me,” he commented. 

A pop sounded by the door. “I’m going to beat you this time, Harry!” 

Harry and Ron hurried over to the sofa and turned on the Nintendo. Another night of racing. Another night of winning. 

Almost an hour later, Hermione walked back into the living room, dressed for a formal night out. 

“Wow, Hermione! You look wonderful,” Ron turned in his seat, ignoring his car driving off the edge of the track. 

Harry had to agree. She looked stunning in a deep purple off-the-shoulder dress. “Where is Ryan taking you?”

She finished clipping her earnings. “I don’t know. It’s a surprise.”

“Are you coming back home?” Harry asked. 

She shrugged, biting her lip. “Who knows.” She grabbed her small black purse and secured her wand. “He should be here soon. You two really think I look okay?”

“Hermione, you look gorgeous,” Ron called out, turning his attention back to the screen. 

Harry only nodded and returned his attention to the race as well. 

A knock came at the door. Hermione rushed to open it. “Ryan!”

Ron grimaced at the sound of kissing. “Who else was it going to be?” he mumbled under his breath. 

“You ready to go?” Ryan asked, his deep timbre flowing into the living room. 

“Yes, let’s go!” Hermione closed the door behind her. 

Harry and Ron had played for three hours before Ron headed home for the night. He had plans with his father and brother the next morning and needed to sleep or he’d be grumpy - his words. 

Harry laid on Hermione’s sofa, flipping through the channels on the telly. There was nothing on this late at night. He honestly didn’t know why he was still here. He should’ve gone home ages ago. 

He groaned. What if Hermione and Ryan came back here to have sex? He actually shivered at the thought. 

A loud popping sound startled him off the couch. “What the bloody hell?”

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice wavered. “What the hell are you still doing here?” She walked past the sofa and into the kitchen. 

“I was bored.” He got to his feet and followed Hermione into the kitchen. He noticed her shoulders shake. “Are you crying?”

“No.” She gripped the counter. 

Her arms were shaking and he thought he heard her taking deep breaths. “Hermione, you’re clearly upset. What’s wrong?”

“Do you know what he said?” Her voice rose. She turned to face him, fumbling with her earrings. 

“Let’s get married? I don’t know.” Harry pulled out a chair and sat down, looking her over. Her hair fell limp around her shoulders and down her back. Some mascara and eyeliner were smeared around her eyes. “Although, I’d advise you to say no. You’ve only been dating, what, six months?”

She squeezed her earrings in her hand. “He said we should take a break!” 

He reached out and tugged on her wrist. Her knees knocked into his and he moved his feet so he could situate her between his legs. Her eyes were glassy and her voice shook, “can you believe that?” 

He squeezed her hand and unfurled her fingers, taking the diamond-studded earrings and placing them gently on the table. “No.”

Fresh tears made their way down her cheeks. He pushed his chair back and stood. “Hermione, come here.” He opened his arms and let her launch herself into his chest. He closed his eyes at the sound of her muffled cries. 

* * *

Week 43

Harry wrapped his hands around his ice cream bowl. 

“I saw Ryan the other day,” Hermione said softly, “at The British Museum.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “I thought he didn’t like going to museums.”

Hermione twirled her spoon around her bowl of ice cream. “He was there with some other girl.”

“Oh.” Harry concentrated on Hermione, looking for any signs of sadness or anger. She puffed out her cheeks but kept her eyes on the table. “Well, he did say you two should take a break, maybe that person wasn’t -”

“They were kissing,” she interrupted.

“Oh.”

She scooped some ice cream into her mouth and stared at her bowl. “He should have just broken up with me. He didn’t need to prolong this,” she said after a moment of silence. 

“He should have.” 

She rested her chin in her hand. “You know what I’ve realized, Harry?”

He shook his head and stuffed more ice cream in his mouth. 

“I haven’t taken a holiday in ages. I should take a holiday.” 

“Now?” He mouthed around his too-large scoop of ice cream. 

“Yeah, why not? There are a ton of places I’ve been wanting to go too. I have some days saved up. I should just go.” 

A loud pop came from the front door. Ron suddenly appeared and stumbled toward them. “Awe, have you two eaten already?”

“Nope. We’re having dessert first,” Hermione announced, she pointed to the ice cream carton on the table. 

“Nice!” Ron plopped down beside Harry and served himself some ice cream from the carton. “What are you two talking about?”

“I’m going on holiday!”

Ron dropped his spoon. “What?” 

“Holiday, Ronald, keep up,” Hermione huffed. She stared at the space over his shoulder. “I don’t have any major obligations holding me back, no boyfriend,” she grumbled the last part. 

“Well,” Ron scooped up some ice cream and took a good look at Hermione. She was well dressed and her eyes were no longer puffy. From what Harry told him, he assumed Hermione would still be heartbroken. Apparently, she had cried into his shoulder for over an hour. “It sounds like a great idea. Where do you want to go? France? Egypt?” 

She shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to go to Greece or Italy. Walkthrough the historical sights and the magical communities of each place. I’ve never visited the magical communities in either country.” 

Ron swallowed a mouthful of ice cream. “You should write Bill or Fleur, they might have some contacts for you to help set up your travel and stay.” 

“That’s a great idea, Ron. Thanks.” 

He smiled. “I’ll write to Charlie too. See if he might be able to help with your travel plans.”

Hermione hopped out of her chair and rounded the table, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Thanks so much, Ron. Alright, who’s ready for dinner? I made roast chicken.” 

* * *

Week 42

“You’re doing what and you’re going where?” Ginny set down her copy of Quidditch Monthly magazine. 

“I’m going to Greece for ten days.” Hermione flipped through a travel guide. “I’m doing something for myself, you know. Giving myself some quality time. I don’t want to think about boyfriends or love. I mean, I’m fine on my own.”

“Damn right you are.” Ginny stared at the side of her friend’s head and hoped Hermione was right. She was tired of seeing one of the best people she knew being dragged through the dirt by worthless so-called boyfriends. 

Hermione scribbled something in her notebook. “I’m really excited. The last time I took a real holiday was with my parents when I was still in school. This will be good for me.” 

Ginny grinned. “I’m excited for you too. I hope you have a lot of fun and don’t even think about running off with some Greek hunk. We need our Hermione back.” 

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. “As if.” 

* * *

“You’re sure you can manage?” Hermione placed Crookshanks onto Harry’s lap. 

He grabbed her wrist. “Hermione, I can watch your cat for ten days. Besides, he’ll love Dogwood Gardens. He can hang out with Sirius. Teddy will be there too. Remus and Tonks are going out for a ‘romantic’ weekend.” 

The Lupins were celebrating Tonks’ birthday early by leaving for a romantic weekend the same weekend Hermione was heading to Greece. 

She nodded. “Okay. You know, I can always leave him at the Burrow.”

Harry rubbed his thumb over the veins at the juncture of her wrist. “We’ll be fine.”

She slowly pulled her hand out of his hold. Harry watched her make one final run-through of her apartment. 

She returned to the living room and rolled her suitcase to the door. Harry pushed Crookshanks onto the couch and stood. He met her by the door and pulled her into a hug. She responded with a tight squeeze.

“Have a safe trip,” he whispered into her hair, “and have fun.”

She nodded against his chest. 

He kissed her forehead and gently nudged her to the door. “I’ll check on your apartment every night. So, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried, Harry.” She smiled. “I’ll let you know when I get there and will you call my parents? Letting them know I got there alright?”

“Of course.” 

She smiled again and disapparated with a muted pop. 


	6. Week 42

Week 42

Hermione had been gone for two days and Crookshanks was looking at Harry forlornly. Teddy clambered over the couch and laid on top of his godfather’s chest. 

“Where’s Mai?”

“She’s on holiday,” Harry answered. 

Teddy’s arm dangled over the side of the couch. “Without us?”

Harry scoffed. “Well, Hermione doesn’t have to do everything with us.”

“I miss her,” Teddy whined. 

He ruffled the boy’s hair. “I miss her too, buddy.”

“I want to make her a picture.” Teddy sat up, pressing into Harry’s stomach. He slid off Harry’s torso and ran off to the playroom. 

Sirius walked into the room, greeting Crookshanks happily. He leaned over the couch and pressed a hand into Harry’s chest. “What are you doing slumming about?”

Harry shrugged. 

“Don’t you have a girlfriend or something?” Sirius noted Harry’s disheveled appearance. He didn’t look dressed to go out. 

“Not really,” Harry said with another shrug. 

Sirius leaned on the couch. “It’s the weekend. Don’t you want to hang out with your friends or something?”

“I guess I should.” Harry sat up. 

“Is everything okay?” Sirius looked over Harry’s disinterested expression. Did he even want to leave the house?

“Have you ever been to Greece?” Harry asked suddenly. 

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. “No. That’s where Hermione is, right?”

“Yeah. I wonder what she’s doing.” He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I don’t know.” Harry was acting strange. “Probably touring the ruins, seeing museums, going to the beach.” 

“The beach?” Harry looked over his shoulder. 

Sirius couldn’t help grinning. “Yeah. Greece is well known for its beach and ocean life. I’m sure Hermione will be  _ well  _ taken care of down there.” He strolled out of the room. 

“What do you mean?” Harry called after him. 

“You know what I mean!” Sirius yelled back. 

“No!” Harry jumped over the back of the couch and raced after his godfather. “What do you mean?”

“Why is everyone yelling!” Teddy called from the playroom. 

* * *

Their weekend with Teddy soon came to an end. Remus and Tonks arrived looking refreshed and content. 

Remus ruffled his son’s hair. “Did he behave?”

“Of course, he did.” Sirius rummaged through Remus’s rucksack. “Did I get anything?”

Remus snatched his bag out of his hold. “No, don’t be a child.”

Sirius pouted. 

“Harry?” Tonks exclaimed in surprise. 

Harry had walked out of the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate. His gaze shifted between them. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, I’m just a little surprised to see you here.”

Harry frowned. “Why? I live here.”

Tonks shrugged. “I figured you’d be out with friends or something.” She patted his shoulder. “Thanks for watching Teddy for us.”

“It’s no problem, Tonks.” Harry moved past them and joined Teddy in the playroom where the boy had set out his new toys. 

“And Hermione?” Remus aimed his question to Sirius. “Is she alright?”

Sirius nodded, leaning against the doorframe. “She sent a letter this morning telling us she was okay and to expect another letter on Thursday to go over how she’s coming home. She won’t be home until next week, but she’ll be back in time for Bill’s daughter’s birthday.” Sirius looked toward the playroom. “Those two have missed her.” 

* * *

“Any word from Hermione?” Ron slid into his seat and spread out his paperwork on his desk.

Harry held up a letter. “This arrived this morning. She says she’s alive, doing well and she’s extending her stay a few more days and will be returning with Charlie when he comes to England for Victoire’s birthday.”

Ron let out a small groan. “Does that mean she won’t be back for another week? Charlie isn’t planning on coming until next Thursday or Friday.”

Harry shrugged. “I suppose.” 

“Well, that messes with my plans.”

Harry looked up at this. “What plans?”

Ron’s cheeks flushed. “I kind of have a date and I wanted to get her advice.”

“You have a date?” Harry yelled. 

Ron sputtered. “Yeah, why are you so surprised?”

Harry held up his hands. “I’m not. It’s just you hardly ever go on dates.”

Ron slumped. “It’s just hard, you know.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, you might not know.” 

Harry leaned back into his seat. “Well, what did you want to ask Hermione? Maybe I could help?”

Ron stared at him for a few moments before speaking. “I wanted her to tell me what I should wear and what to talk about.”

“Oh, well shit.”


	7. Week 41

Week 41

Hermione stumbled through the floo of the Weasley residence. She looked around briefly to see if anyone saw and spotted Charlie standing just outside the kitchen, a playful smirk on his face. 

“Ms. Granger, less graceful than usual,” he quipped. He walked up and brushed off some soot from her shoulders. 

She couldn’t help the blush coming to her cheeks. “That’s what I get for rushing.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her out into the garden where Victoire’s second birthday party was being held. “Don’t worry about it, Hermione.” 

He led her to where Harry and Ron were huddled together. “I’d like to be the first to tell you, you look great today, Hermione, and you smell amazing.”

“Charlie!” She smacked him in the stomach. 

“It’s the truth!”

“Hermione!” Sirius bounded toward her out of nowhere. “I heard the good news!” 

Hermione braced herself. The news of the new werewolf legislation was released just that morning. She was glad her friends finally knew.

Charlie stepped away and allowed Sirius to crash into her and lift her up in his arms. 

“You’re writing a new werewolf law, Hermione, I’m so happy. I know Remus won’t show it in any way that he should so I took it upon myself to show you our gratitude.”

Across the garden, Harry took a sip of his beer and watched his godfather spin Hermione around in his arms. She hung onto his shoulders tightly, her fingers gripping the back of his shirt. Once she was back on her feet, Fred and George rushed over and began bombarding her with questions. 

Her hair looked longer, he noted to himself. Sunkissed skin and brightened eyes. 

“They’re ridiculous,” Ron scoffed. He took a long sip of his beer. “You know, they like her.”

“What?” Harry’s beer burned down his throat. 

Ron shrugged. “Fred or George. Or maybe both of them. I think they like her. Don’t know if they’ll ever do anything about it.” 

“How do you know they like her?” Harry looked between the twins and Hermione. 

She stood comfortably beside Fred, her attention set on whatever he was saying. Fred’s own body was turned to her, his eyes wide with mirth. He reached out and set his hand on her waist. George tugged on her hair, before kissing her cheek and walking off in the direction of the food. 

Ron set his now empty bottle down on the ground. “Look at the way they look at her. It’s hard to miss. I don’t even think she realizes though.” 

A snort from behind made them jump. Ginny sat on the arm of Harry’s chair. “She definitely doesn’t realize. Besides, it’s not like you knew either, Ron. I’m the one who told you.” 

Ron blushed. 

Harry pulled on his jeans. “So, do you think either of them will ask her out?”

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. “No idea. I think they should though. What do they have to lose?” 

Harry saw George return with a plate of food for Hermione. 

As he watched the twins and Hermione talk, he tried to relax his hands and shoulders, which were unconsciously tensing every few seconds. 

Hermione finally parted from Fred and George, with a kiss on both their cheeks and walked over to where He and Ron were sitting. 

She gave them both bright smiles. “It’s so good to see you both.”

Ron leaped to his feet and hugged her tightly. “I’m glad you’re back home safe. Did you have fun in Greece?”

Harry took to his feet. He wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “You look great, Hermione.”

“Thanks, Harry. I had so much fun.” She took Ron’s offered seat and set her plate of food on her lap. “It was incredible.” 

Ron, Harry, and Ginny gathered around her. Ginny leaned forward. “So, what did you do first?”

“Well, my first day was just getting there. Portkeys and waiting for the portkeys. I arrived in Athens first. I went to the Acropolis, where I toured the Parthenon. I went to the Archaeological Museum and I ran into a witch!”

Ron slapped his leg. “Really? How did that go about?”

“Well,” Hermione went on to explain how she met Zenovia Demetriou, a local teacher at a magical day school. Zenovia, showed her the easier locations to enter the magical community, the magical counterpart to the archaeological museum and much to Harry’s chagrin, her own brother, who led Hermione through Delphi, Knossos, and the beach. “Then I met up with Charlie in Romania in Bucharest and he showed me around the dragon preserve and we came back to England.” 

Ginny leaned over and gave her friend a tight side-hug. “I’m glad you had a great time, Hermione. You’re glowing.”

Hermione’s cheeks pinkened. “Thanks, Ginny.”

Ron squeezed her thigh. “It’s good to have you back though. We missed you.”

“Yeah,” Harry croaked. He cleared his throat. “Teddy missed you a ton.”

“Awe. I’ll make sure to give him twice the amount of hugs and kisses.” 

She finished off the food on her plate and set it aside. “So, what’s this about a double date?”

Ron smacked his hands over his face. “Merlin, no.”

Hermione giggled. “No, tell me!” 

“I dragged Harry along,” Ron began, “he hit it off fine with his date, but I kept mucking it up with Nolene.” 

“How did you meet her?” 

“She’s Hannah Abbott’s cousin.”

Hermione contemplated. “Aren’t you worried you two might be related?”

The air around them stilled. 

“Bloody hell, I didn’t think of that!” 

While Ginny burst into laughter and hit Ron on the back, Hermione turned and aimed her next question to Harry. “So, what did you think of Astrid?”

Astrid Gaubert, the girl he went along the double date with, was leggy and blonde, but he didn’t think that was the kind of answer Hermione was looking for. 

“She’s nice,” he answered. “She works at Obscurus Books.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding? That’s brilliant. What does she do? Is she an editor?”

Harry shrugged. “Not sure.” 

“Will you go out with her again?” 

Harry’s eyes searched hers, deep brown which seemed to glow with the setting sun. He licked his lips. “I don’t know. I might.” 


	8. Week 39

Week 39

Hermione pulled the door open. “Harry? What are you doing here?”

Harry rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’m bored, can we hang out?”

She stepped aside to allow him into her flat. “My parents are here and we’re about to go out.”

He nodded and entered the flat, spotting both of her parents sitting on her couch. The telly was on and displaying a football game. 

Hermione’s dad, Howard, looked over his shoulder. “Harry, good to see you!”

Harry bowed his head slightly. “Good afternoon, Mr. Granger.”

Nicole, Hermione’s mum, stood up and came around the sofa. “Harry, it’s been a while. I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself.” She hugged him and then patted him on the cheek. 

Harry smiled. “I am, Mrs. Granger.” 

She smiled. “Good, good. Hermione, do you want any help in the kitchen?”

Hermione shook her head. “You go sit with dad, I’ll bring your coffee.” 

Mrs. Granger sat back down and with no other option, Harry followed Hermione into the small kitchen. He watched her pour two cups of coffee and fix them up with cream and sugar. 

She placed one cup into his hand and walked over to her mother with the other. 

He sipped his coffee and watched Hermione talk quietly with her parents. Mr. Granger reached out and clasped her hand between his, leaving a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. Hermione kissed the top of his head and walked back around the sofa and to her small kitchen. 

“So, Harry, are you joining us this afternoon?” Mrs. Granger tossed a quick glance over her shoulder. 

His stomach flipped. “Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t know Hermione was going out today.”

Mr. Granger chuckled. “Feel free to tag along, Harry. We’re going to the Open Air Theatre at Regent’s Park.”

Mrs. Granger turned, resting her arm on the back of the sofa. “It’ll be great fun, Harry. You should join us.”

“We should at least tell him what we’re going to see. It might scare him off,” Mr. Granger warned. 

Mrs. Granger smacked her husband on the arm lightly. “We’re going to see Romeo and Juliet, but don’t let that scare you away, Harry. And dinner will be on us. Howard is dying to go back to that Chinese restaurant we tried a few months ago.” 

Harry looked toward Hermione. She gave him a small smile and shrugged. Then her smile widened, “have you ever seen Romeo and Juliet?”

Harry opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Mrs. Granger’s gasp. “You haven’t seen Romeo and Juliet?”

* * *

Harry settled down beside Hermione with a small bag of warm biscuits and a pack of M&Ms in his jacket pocket. Mr. and Mrs. Granger sat down on the other side of Hermione.

Hermione snuck a caramel out of her jacket pocket and began unwrapping the plastic. “Do you even know the story of Romeo & Juliet?” She whispered to him. 

He shrugged. “Only that they die, right?”

She popped the caramel into her mouth. “Well, yeah,” she mouthed around the candy. “I hope you won’t regret coming.”

He scoffed. “I don’t think I could ever regret hanging out with you.”

She nudged him in the stomach but didn’t reply as the crowd soon quieted down to watch the performance. 

* * *

Hermione’s parents led the way to Mr. Granger’s favorite Chinese restaurant (“I swear they have the best dim sum in all of London”), he felt this was a better way to spend his Sunday afternoon, spending time with his best friend, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. 

How else was he going to find out how that particular play affected Hermione. Of course, he probably won’t bring up how she began crying during their tragic deaths, but it was one new thing he learned about one of his oldest friends - she’s a sucker for a love story and tragedy. 

And now they were about to partake in another thing he knew she loved - eating Chinese food. 

They scooted into a booth and picked up their menus, scouring over the options. 

“So, Harry, how’s work?” Mr. Granger asked before sipping on his soda. 

Harry laid his hands over his knees and squeezed. “Alright, for the most part. Stressful, but I manage.”

Mrs. Granger's eyes creased in concern. “You do look a little worn out. It must be hard and tiring - the work you do.” 

Harry dropped his gaze to the table. “It is but I’m good at what I do.” 

Hermione gently laid her hand on his forearm and gave him a small smile. 

Neither Harry nor Hermione noticed the elder Grangers’ pointed looks. 

“Well,” Mrs. Granger piped up again, “I’m glad you and Hermione are doing something you both find fulfillment in.” 

Mr. Granger nodded. “Yes, even if we don’t entirely understand what you two do.” 

Mrs. Granger nudged him in the shoulder. “Howard.”

He shrugged. “What? It’s true. Come on, your own mother never understood why we became dentists. How is this any different?” 

Mrs. Granger began to giggle, which soon turned into full-on laughter. Mr. Granger soon erupted into laughter as well. 

“Mama still doesn’t get it,” Mrs. Granger said between chuckles. “She finds it so odd. Of all the things we could have studied, we studied teeth.” 

Harry looked toward Hermione, who gave him a shy smile and shrugged. 

“Don’t mind them,” she muttered.

He shook his head, a smile on his own face. “I don’t.” 


	9. Week 37

Week 37

Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and glared at the papers laid out on his desk. 

Something wasn’t adding up. Timelines and witness accounts were not making sense. Who was where and when?

“Surprise!”

Harry jolted, slamming a hand against the wood of his desk. Astrid skipped into his office and placed a pastry box with cookies on the edge of his desk. 

“Thought I’d drop by and see if you’re free for lunch.” Astrid’s gaze roamed around the office. “It’s awfully stuffy in here. How can you feel relaxed in here? There aren’t any windows.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m busy right now, Astrid. I can’t get away.”

She smiled softly at him, coming around the desk. She brushed her fingertips across his cheek. “I understand. I’ll see you later?”

He nodded. 

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Feel free to share those cookies. Or not.” She winked at him and strolled out of his office. 

Once she was out of sight, he let out a long groan. Where did Astrid get the idea that she could just come in and out of his office? What if there were criminals in holding? Or he was in the middle of a meeting? 

He massaged his forehead with his fore and middle finger, making small circles, trying to ease away the headache that was starting to settle. 

* * *

Hermione stared at the paper before her. She was trying to work out the housing portion of the werewolf legislation, but she couldn’t find the correct wording. 

“Granger?” Ainsworth stood in the open doorway of her office. “I brought an extra slice of tiramisu. You want it?”

She smiled. “I’d love some.”

Ainsworth set the little box on her desk. “What are you working on that’s giving you frown-lines?”

Hermione rubbed her forehead. “Just trying to work out the kinks in the housing section.” 

“Is it the wording or the fear the ministry won’t even agree with it?” He peered at the words she’d already written. “It is rather hopeful.”

“Hopeful, but necessary. People deserve a safe place to transform.”

Ainsworth rested his elbows on her desk. “And you’re right. Maybe you should start off with that,” he cleared his throat, “as members of the British Magical Community, or the British Commonwealth, individuals afflicted with lycanthropy should expect reasonable and safe accommodations for transformations, etcetra, etcetra.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Ainsworth, that was really good.”

He patted himself on the shoulder. “I know. Well, I'll leave you to it. Don’t think too hard.” 

* * *

Hermione felt like the weekend couldn’t arrive soon enough. From house inspections to working on the new legislation, she just needed a chance to let her hair down and relax. 

And what better way than to spend Saturday morning browsing through the stacks of the local library. That’s just what she needed. She’ll find a new book and this evening she’ll pour herself a glass of wine and read into the night. Better yet, maybe she’ll take a long soaking bath!

She came home with ten books, dropping them on the foot of her bed. Should she make dinner or just get take-out?

Her mobile started to ring and she dug around in her purse for it. 

_ Harry _

She answered after a few rings. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Have you eaten?” His voice crackled. 

“No. I was just thinking about what I was going to have for dinner. Why?”

“I want to get some Indian food.” 

“Oh, that sounds delicious.” 

The line was silent for a moment. “Do you want me to bring some over or would you like to meet up somewhere?”

Hermione stared at the books on her bed. Looks like her relaxing night in was going to be postponed until tomorrow. “Bring some over and I'll pick up a movie from the rental store.”

“Sounds good. See you in a bit.” 

Hermione grabbed her purse and headed out to the corner shopping center. Stopping first at the rental store, she picked up a few animated and action movies. Then she walked over to the convenience store and picked up some sodas and candy. 

She got back to her flat just in time to see Harry apparate into the sitting room. 

“Find anything good?” Harry asked, he placed the food on the table and then came over to take the bags out of her hands. 

“Yes. What should we watch first? Shrek or The Mummy?”

Harry stopped his hands in the air over the bag with food. “You got Shrek? Really?” 

Hermione shrugged. “Why not?” 

He rolled his eyes. “The Mummy.”

Hermione grumbled to the Telly. “Why gripe about Shrek if we’re not even going to watch it.” She placed The Mummy in the movie player and let the DVD run while she helped Harry set out the food. 

“Thanks for getting the drinks,” his voice was low as he grabbed a can of ginger ale.

“Sure.” She grabbed her strawberry soda, her food container and took her seat on the sofa. 

Harry followed suit and sat on the other end. He grabbed the remote and pushed play. 

Hermione sipped her soda and then placed it down on her coffee table. Taking up her fork, she stabbed a few pieces of chicken. She settled back into the sofa and took in the sight of Brendan Frasier and Rachel Weisz. 

She was halfway through her food when Harry finally spoke. “Do you think it’s that easy for someone to fall in love?” 

Harry pointed at the screen with his fork. “I mean, they’re fighting for their lives and the salvation of the whole world really, but they get together in the end.” 

Hermione set her food down. “I think there’s always time for love if you’re open to it.” 

“I guess,” he mumbled. 

“It is a movie, Harry.”

He set his empty container of food on the coffee table and shifted on the sofa, bringing a leg up and leaning his arm over the back of the sofa. “Yeah, but isn’t it harder to get together when you’re fighting for your lives? There are so many other important things to focus on.” 

“Sure, but coming home to someone you love can ease any stress and sometimes they’re the very reason why you fight and push, so you can protect them.”

Harry stared at the seams of the sofa. “I guess that makes sense. If that’s the case, why is it so hard to care for someone when neither of you is in the middle of danger?”

Hermione stared at his forehead. Her eyes trailed down at his narrowed eyes and tense jaw. “What do you mean? You care about me, don’t you? And Ron and Ginny and -”

“Of course, I do. That’s not what I meant.” He wiped his hand over the top of his jeans. “I don’t think I’ve ever been able to care or love any of the people I’ve dated since Ginny,” he confessed. “I thought I might have, with someone, but when they left I wasn’t as upset as I thought I would be.” 

“I didn’t love Ryan,” she reminded him. 

“Well, he was a prat, how could you?” He muttered under his breath. 

“Harry,” Hermione chided. “Falling in love or being in love, it isn’t about ticking off boxes from a list. You either feel it for someone or you don’t.” 

“And why be in a relationship if you don’t love or care about the other person,” Harry added. 

“Right…”

“I don’t love or care about Astrid,” he said softly. 

Hermione scooted across the sofa, her knee knocked into his thigh. “What is it, Harry?”

He met her eyes. “Do you ever feel like you can’t be honest with people?” 

She rested her hand on her thigh. “You know, when I was in Greece, I felt so free to be myself. Open with the people I met.” Her cheeks reddened. “I could do and ask for whatever I wanted because there wasn’t some sort of expectation of me.”

Harry watched as her cheeks got redder and redder. “Are you talking about sex?”

She blinked hard and nodded her head slowly. “I hated sex with Kenneth,” she admitted, mentioning her ex-ex boyfriend. “Sex with Ryan was no better.”

Harry covered his mouth, but his eyes were wide with curiosity. “You really want to talk about this with me?” His voice muffled by his hand. 

She blew a raspberry. “I have no one else to talk to. Luna doesn’t understand what I mean. She and Ginny tell me to just be more forceful. I am  _ never _ talking to Ron about this. Besides, you started this!” 

He tried to rein down his sheepish smile. “So, what is it that you’re looking for? When you’re, you know,” this time his face went red, “having sex?”

Her shoulders shook slightly, holding back a laugh. “It's just when I’m intimate with someone, they expect some, I don’t know, idolized version of myself. But, their expectations don’t match up with what I actually want. Does that make sense?”

He dropped his hands to his knees. “I think so. You know, girls usually think I’m great in bed.”

“Oh, Harry Potter a sex god,” Hermione teased. “How original.” 

He stuck his tongue out. “I am great in bed. But,” he continued when she opened her mouth to interrupt, “I feel like I have expectations too. I worry about going over the line, trying new things. Especially since none of these relationships tend to last longer than a few weeks or months.”

“You don’t give yourself a chance to get to know them more intimately,” she noted. “Inside and outside the bedroom.”

He nodded. “I don’t. I spend time with someone, but when it comes down to it, I don’t particularly care about how their day went or whether or not they like this or that.”

His green eyes met hers. “I don’t think I'm cut out for relationships. I’m uncomfortable with the thought of letting someone get close. I don’t trust them. Besides, I don’t want to string them along when I obviously don’t care.”

Hermione held out her hand. Harry lifted his hand and placed it in her open palm. “It’s scary, isn’t it?” She said softly. “What about Astrid?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I don’t know. Maybe I should lay off the girlfriends and relationships like you.” He sighed. “I’m going to miss having sex though.”

Hermione giggled. “Me too. Not that it was great in the first place. Damn it.”

Harry laughed aloud. “I feel bad for you.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled. 

He shrugged. “Well, we’re kind of in the same boat. I never wanted to do anything too crazy in case someone blabbed to a reporter.”

She removed her hand from his. “What if we started giving out Non-Disclosure Agreements to any potential significant other?”

Harry sputtered and stretched out his legs. “Can you imagine? Sign here please and acknowledge that you’ll never disclose any secrets, personal information regarding my sexual desires and preferences.”

Hermione giggled again. “Oh, we’re hopeless.” She grabbed her food and took another bite.

Harry stared at the side of her face. “Yeah, hopeless.”


	10. Week 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're officially halfway through!   
Thanks to those who have read, commented and subscribed. It means a lot!

Week 36

_ Harry,  _

_ It’s been ages since we’ve had an honest get together with friends. So, I’m inviting you to join me and a few friends (Ron, Luna, Neville, Hannah, Ginny, Fred, and George) to go hiking with me. We’ll start early in the morning and probably break for brunch.  _

_ If you want to come along, meet me at my flat at 6:30. I’ll be apparating us all to the hiking trail.  _

_ Hermione _

* * *

Harry usually used his Saturday and Sunday mornings for sleeping in. When he received Hermione’s letter the night before, for one, he was surprised because she usually called and two he was just going to say no. He went to bed deciding he wasn’t going to go. 

However, he woke up as the sunlight crested over the hill. He pushed his blankets aside and slowly stood and got ready for a hike. 

Leaving a quick note for Sirius on the kitchen counter, he disapparated. 

Hermione’s flat was empty and quiet. Did he miss them?

“Hermione?”

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice sounded far away. “I’m in my bedroom!”

He walked to her room and laughed aloud. She was on the floor, reaching beneath her bed, with her arse sticking up in the air. “What the hell, Hermione?”

“My boots!” She reached further.

“Yes, and you’re a witch.” 

She slowly slumped to the ground and scooted out from under the bed. She shot him a mild glare and grabbed her wand from the side table. Silently, she summoned her boots and moved to sit on the edge of her bed. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

He leaned on the doorway and watched her stuff her feet into her hiking boots. He remembered how surprised he had been when he discovered how much she actually enjoyed this pastime. Hiking and camping and just being outdoors. She had told him it was an activity she did with her dad and her maternal grandfather. 

It had all started as a ‘get to know you’ excursion - between her father and grandfather. When she was born, they included her in their trips. It was something they did together until her grandfather passed away. 

“I was going to sleep in, but my body woke up,” he admitted.

She smiled at him. “Lucky us. Neville, Hannah, Luna, and Ron are coming. Ginny has a match tonight and she said she wanted to sleep in today. Apparently, Fred and George are meeting with some business associates from New York, so they’re busy all weekend.” 

“That sounds like good news.” 

More pops sounded from the sitting room. Harry moved aside and followed Hermione to meet up with their friends. 

* * *

They arrived at the Peak District National Park, bright and early. Ron yawned loudly and then took an exaggerated deep breath. “That is wonderful air.” 

“Where are we?” Neville asked, staring at the set of buildings on the other side of the trees they were currently huddled in.

“Just outside of Hathersage. The trail is this way.” Hermione led the way. Luna settled in beside her. 

Harry brought up the rear with Ron, who was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

“I’m surprised you made it,” Harry told him. 

“Me too. I almost didn’t. But I haven’t hung out with Neville and Luna in forever. And work doesn’t count.”

Harry had to agree. Other than birthday parties and dropping by Hermione’s place, he hardly ever hung out with his friends or saw them outside of work. 

Harry let his eyes wander. Neville and Hannah tugged on each other’s sleeves playfully. Ron was gazing all around him, picking out birds and small animals that scurried away to hide. He noticed Hermione and Luna were a few spaces ahead, Luna pointing at things she noticed and Hermione answering her as promptly as she could. They suddenly laughed and exchanged wide grins. 

He couldn’t help smiling.

* * *

Hermione and her friends settled beneath a tree and watched the sun fully rise over the horizon, bathing the vibrant green land before them in warm sunlight. 

Hermione knocked her knee against Luna’s. “So,” she said softly, “are you going to introduce us to him?”

Luna leaned back on her hands. “I’m not sure what this is yet. I want to spend more time with him.”

Hermione nodded in understanding. “It’s funny how he fell into your Occamy trap. Did you end up finding any Occamy in those woods.”

Luna chuckled. “No.” 

Hermione sat cross-legged, gripping her ankles. “Are you concerned about the age difference? Do you think your father minds it?” 

Luna wiggled her feet from side to side. “I don’t think would mind. My mother was nine years older than him. The seven years between Rolf and I does not seem too large in comparison. Besides, others are quite larger.”

“That’s true. I was just wondering.” 

Luna patted Hermione on her knee. “How are you feeling?”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. “I’m fine.” 

“Are you lonely?” 

Hermione stared at Luna’s clear blue eyes. Lonely?

“I know how much you like being in love or feeling in love,” Luna continued. “For some people, it’s hard to not be in a relationship or looking for a partner. Have you had difficulty adjusting?”

Hermione pulled her braided hair over her shoulder. “I have no idea. I never thought of myself that way and I don’t think I’ve had issues adjusting.” 

“That’s good to hear.” 

Hannah scooted down to sit beside Luna. “There’s a little place in Hogsmeade we can go for brunch. Susan told me about it.”

“Is it the Griffin? Ainsworth’s been wanting to go for a while,” Hermione said. “He told me I’d appreciate, as a Gryffindor and all.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Of course, but it’s not as if it’s decked out in Gryffindor memorabilia.” 

“Right, it’s a griffin, as in the creature,” Luna explained. 

Hermione chuckled. “Well, let’s go see for ourselves.” 

* * *

Harry found himself sitting in the middle of the bench. Ron on his left beside the window, and Hermione on his right at the open end. Luna, Hannah, and Neville on the opposite side. 

It was probably the worst sitting arrangement, but here they were, waiting for their breakfast to arrive at the newly opened restaurant cafe in Hogsmeade. 

A wooden sign hanging outside with a cartoonish griffin announced its location. The Griffin was decorated in warm browns and gold and surprisingly had a generous amount of space to walk around and find a seat. 

Hermione set her orange juice down. “Ainsworth was badly informed. There’s nothing here that reminds me of Gryffindor.”

“Ainsworth?” Harry piped in. 

“My coworker, Timothy Ainsworth.” 

Harry stared at her blankly. “Have I met him?”

She gave him a small smile. “Yes.”

He groaned under his breath and grabbed his coffee. He probably wasn’t paying attention the first time they met. 

Moments later, their food arrived. Plates of scrambled eggs with bacon and bangers, baked beans, toast, fried potatoes, and bowls of fruit spread across the table. 

The six quickly dug in. The bacon disappeared quickly. 

Harry suddenly noticed a small piece of bacon left on his plate was moving slowly to the right. He turned and found Hermione reaching out to grab it. 

“Mai,” he said under his breath. 

“I didn’t get any,” she whined. 

He grabbed the piece and placed it on her plate. 

She bumped his shoulder. “Thanks, Harry.” 

After breakfast, the friends parted ways. Ron headed back to the Burrow to help his father redo some charms laid over the foundation. Luna went home to work on some articles. Neville and Hannah had plans to visit St. Mungo’s. 

That left Harry and Hermione to linger outside The Griffin.

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets. “What should we do now?”

She shrugged. “Well, I’m free for the whole day. We could walk around?”

He nodded and led the way down the street. He felt her hand on his arm. He turned, a questioning look on his face. 

“We should definitely go to Honeydukes before we go. It's been ages since I’ve gotten sweets from Honeydukes.”

He tucked her hand into his elbow and continued down the street. “Then, we’ll definitely go.” 

“Harry?” 

“Yes?” 

“Are we okay?”

He startled. “Of course we are. Why would we be?”

Her cheeks began to flush. “It’s just last time we were together we had a pretty personal conversation.”

He chuckled. “Our sex talk?”

“Harry!”

He laughed aloud. He dropped her hand from his elbow and wrapped his arm around her shoulders instead, pulling her to his chest so he could kiss the top of her head. “It was kind of awkward, but we’re okay, Hermione. I don’t regret the conversation.”

She sighed. “That’s a relief.” She jostled beside him. “It’s not every day we share something that personal, you know.”

“Yeah,” he squeezed her shoulder, “that probably means we should do it more often.”

She nudged her elbow into his stomach. “No way.”

“Come on. We’re best friends, remember? What’s something you haven’t told anyone?”

Hermione was silent for a while. Harry wanted to kick himself. Perhaps, he had gone too far.

“Well,” she finally said, “I kind of always wanted to write a book.” 

“Really? That’s - why are you blushing?”

“I don’t know,” she stumbled out, “doesn’t sound a little cliche?”

“Of course it doesn’t. If it’s a dream of yours there’s nothing cliche about it.”

She smiled at him. “What about you? What’s something you’ve never done?”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“Nope.” She slipped out of his hold and walked slightly ahead, “but it’s what I’m asking you.”

Harry stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and watched Hermione stop at storefront to storefront, examining the wares in the windows. “I’ve never gone to a concert.”

She looked over her shoulder. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’d never been to a play until that day with your parents.”

Her eyes widened. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that shouldn't we?”

He shrugged. Hermione took his hand and he felt a lightness course through him. 

“Come on,” she said softly, “Honeydukes is up ahead.”


	11. Week 34

Week 34

“It’s good to do things the old fashioned way.” Sirius rolled the cookie dough into a small ball. 

Hermione giggled. “The old-fashioned way? You mean without magic?” She glanced around the large kitchen Sirius and Harry had in their home. 

Sirius and Harry had bought the small manor house of Dogwood Garden four years ago, had it remodeled and redecorated to suit their style. Considering it was only the two of them in the house, they made sure their kitchen was large for all their get-togethers. 

Hermione continued to stir the ingredients of their chocolate cake.

“Mai,” Teddy sat up from his bar stool. “Did you bring any candy?” He stuck his hand into her purse. He fished out a pill packet. “What’s this? Gum?”

Hermione reached across the counter. “Nope! Nothing.” She snatched it out of his hands. “Teddy,” she said more calmly, “where’s your apron? Aren’t you going to help Uncle Sirius and me make cookies and cake.”

“Yes!” Teddy hopped off the stool and ran to the pantry. 

Sirius peered over her shoulder and whispered, “what is it?”

She flipped it over to show him the pills. “It’s my new birth control.” 

He wiped his hands clean and reached for it. She handed him the pill packet and watched him look it over. He cleared his throat. “So, what is it? It controls birth?”

She giggled. “Sort of. It messes with my hormones so I’m less likely to get pregnant.” She held out her hand. He dropped into her open palm. “But, I don’t use it to prevent pregnancy. My periods are horrible,” she confessed. “The pain was debilitating and it was affecting my day to day life.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “I had no idea. Does this happen to a lot of women?”

Hermione shrugged. “Some have it worse than others. Periods are difficult, period.” She chuckled to herself. “Pain, discomfort. My mother gets massive headaches for days.” 

Sirius rubbed her shoulder. “Bloody hell, Hermione. Sometimes one just doesn’t know. I’m personally not thinking of someone’s period on a daily basis. I had no idea. Does this one work well for you?”

Hermione nodded. “I was using a hormone shot before, but I didn’t like how it made me feel bloated and nauseous. So, I’ve switched. I’m hoping this one works better.” 

Sirius turned his attention back to the cookie dough. Teddy finally returned and propped himself in between his Uncle and Hermione. “I washed my hands.”

“Good job, Teddy,” Sirius mumbled. “That’s muggle medicine,” he said to Hermione, “is there a magical equivalent?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’ve asked, but no. There’s contraception potions and such, but I don’t need just contraception.”

“Right, right.” He clapped his doughy hands together. “Alright, let’s get down to business. Cookies. Cake!”

Teddy giggled between them. He grabbed a handful of cookie dough and began to roll it up. 

* * *

Harry stepped out of the floo and stretched his neck. Being called into work on a Saturday was the worst. If people would just do their work accordingly during the week he wouldn’t have to come in on the weekend to clean up their mess. 

He hovered in the doorway of the sitting room. Was that a giggle?

“Sirius, don’t!”

Hermione?

He walked slowly down the hallway toward the source of the voices. He couldn’t discern Sirius’s low rumble, but Hermione’s giggles and breathy responses were loud and clear. 

“Don’t you dare, Sirius Black. Hands to yourself!”

Harry burst into the kitchen, assuming with dread that he was about to find his best friend and godfather in a compromising position.

His jaw slackened. “What are you two doing?”

Hermione was huddled on one side of the counter, peering over the top. Sirius was on the other side, holding up his frosted fingers and hands. 

“Harry, thank goodness!” Hermione jumped to her feet. “Sirius is trying to get me.”

Harry looked between the two and finally noticed the cakes and cookies all over the kitchen counter. 

“Harry!” Teddy scrambled out from the cupboard, his head covered in cake frosting. “You’re home! Me and Mai made cake and cookies.” He ran into Harry, wrapping his arms firmly around his torso.

“Oh?” Sirius set his hands on his hips. “Who am I? The milk-man?” He began to pout. Then he groaned, seeing the mess he had spread on his hips. “Come on, Teddy. Let’s go get cleaned up. While we’re doing that let’s figure out how to convince Hermione to stay for supper.”

Teddy walked out of the kitchen with Sirius. “Mai’s not staying for supper?”

Harry sighed deeply and joined Hermione at the counter. “I didn’t know you were coming by today.” 

She shrugged, picking up a towel and wiping the counter. “I wanted to bake and asked Sirius if I could come over.”

He leaned against the counter and stared out of the window over the sink. His jaw clenched. He felt her settle beside him. 

Her hand hovered over his shoulder before she rested it on him, pressing her hand firmly. Her fingers brushed against the ends of his hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.” He pulled his arms back to rest along the counter, making her shift closer. 

She stepped over his foot and stood between his parted legs. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. “Your heart is beating so fast.” 

Was it? He barely noticed. He could still be running high on the adrenaline from work or maybe his heart was pounding from the fear of potentially finding Hermione and Sirius snogging. He didn’t know.

His gaze rested on the top of her head. It felt good being held like this. He could almost feel his stress rolling off of him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly.

She tilted her head up. She looked at him quizzically. 

He kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back firmly. 

They remained in each other’s hold for a few long minutes, before Sirius’s voice cut through the silence. 

“Hermione, stay for supper.” He didn’t comment on their close proximity but wagged his eyebrows at Harry, who rolled his eyes. 

Hermione dropped her arms from around Harry. “I’m up for supper. What are we having?”

Sirius grimaced. “No, idea.” He ambled over to the refrigerator. “I’ve got uncooked chicken, some vegetables, cranberry juice.”

“Let’s have pancakes!” Teddy dashed into the kitchen, crashing into Sirius. He tugged on his uncle’s sleeve. “Pancakes, please.”

Sirius ruffled his hair. “No, can do, Teddy-bear. Your mum and dad said you need at least one healthy meal today.”

Hermione joined them at the refrigerator. “I can cook up some chicken.”

“Awe, Mai, I don’t want to make you cook. You’re a guest,” Sirius began to pout.

Hermione took out the chicken and vegetables. “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you and Teddy enjoy the rest of the afternoon outside? Little boys shouldn’t have to stay cooped up inside all day, even if they spent all morning baking.”

Teddy hugged her briefly before sprinting outside. Sirius patted her shoulder and followed Teddy outside. 

Harry watched Hermione set out the uncooked food on the counter. She found the cutting boards and knives she wanted and got to work cutting up the chicken. 

“I’m going to change and I’ll be back to help you,” he said. He hurried up to his room. He hurled his cloak off and fumbled over the buttons of his shirt. Finally, completely unbuttoned, he ripped it out of his pants, tossing it into his closet. He kicked off his shoes and his belt and pants followed suit. He changed into a comfy pair of joggers, plain t-shirt, and trainers. 

He returned to the kitchen to find Hermione standing at the sink with two carrots in either hand. 

He quietly walked up to the sink and peered out the window. What caught her attention?

Sirius was standing in the garden with Teddy hovering before him on a child’s training broom. Teddy kept moving from a seated position to leaning forward, unsure of what felt comfortable.

“Sometimes,” Hermione began softly, “I wonder about what could’ve been, you know? If things had ended differently that day. Reminds me to be grateful, every day.”

She sniffed loudly. She stepped back to the island counter, setting the carrots on the other cutting board. “Cut up those carrots and broccoli. I found some rice so I’ll prepare that too.” 

She turned on the cooker and readied the pans she was going to use for the chicken and rice. 

Harry cut the carrots and broccoli as directed. But, he thought back to her words. What had she seen that made her think and say that? What day was she talking about? The day at the Ministry? The day the Order battled against the Death Eaters at Hogwarts? Or that day in Malfoy Manor?

“Would you mind if I took a look in the library?”

Harry transferred the cut vegetables into the saute pan with the chicken and covered it with a lid. “Of course not. You’re welcome to go whenever you want.”

“Great. I’ll check it out after supper.”

“Hermione?”

She peered up at him, her brown eyes meeting his. 

“What did you mean by -”

“Mai!” Teddy wailed into the kitchen, pushing past Harry and into Hermione’s legs. “I fell!”

Sirius staggered inside, shuffling his fingers through his hair. “Teddy fell from the broom and bumped his arm and leg. Hermione, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” She grazed her hand over Teddy’s head. “Let’s go take a look.”

Teddy took her hand and let her lead him into the downstairs bathroom.

Sirius looked at the food cooking. “Teddy wouldn’t let me look at him. He’s in one of those moods.” 

Harry nodded, understanding completely. Sometimes, Teddy wouldn’t let anyone see him cry or take care of any injuries, usually the person who saw it happen. 

“Damn,” Sirius took a deep breath, “cookies, cake, and now an actual meal. Today has been a great day.”

Harry scoffed. “If you say so.”

“I do say so. I’ve declared it.”

Teddy’s tears stopped and only soft chatter could be heard coming from down the hall. 

“See, all better now,” Hermione’s voice neared them. She and Teddy walked back down the hallway. His red-rimmed eyes the only evidence he had been crying. 

“Can we eat now?” Teddy saddled up beside Sirius, leaning into his hip.

* * *

After supper, Hermione slipped away to the library. Harry stayed with Sirius and Teddy, who had ventured into the playroom after eating. 

But, after ten minutes of attempting to build a large LEGO castle, Harry sneaked out and ventured up to the library. The door was open so he let himself in. 

Dogwood Garden’s library was large, which Harry always found odd considering he wasn’t much of a reader. He figured Sirius liked to collect books. He never actually saw him reading, maybe Sirius read during the day when he was working. 

Hermione was laying on the love seat in front of one of the large windows. One finger twisting a long strand of her dark hair. 

“What are you reading?” Harry walked over to the love seat and nudged her shoulder. She sat up on her elbows and once Harry was settled, she lay back down, resting her head on his thigh. 

“A biography on Morgan le Fay. Have you read it?”

Harry scoffed. 

She buried her head into his leg. “Prat.”

He pulled her hair out from under her and trailed it over his lap. He threaded his fingers through the soft tresses. 

“Do you want me to read a little bit to you?”

He twisted some strands around his forefinger. “I’d like that.”   
  



	12. Week 31

Week 31

“Are you going to hang out with your girlfriend today?”

Harry looked away from his coffee. “Hm?”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. “Your girlfriend? Are you going to see her today?”

“Oh,” Harry slumped in his chair. “No. I don’t even know if she has plans for the weekend.” He turned his attention back to his food and didn’t see Sirius’s face morph with concern. 

“Are you going to see Hermione today?” Sirius asked.

“No.” Harry traced his finger around the rip of his coffee. “She’s at the Wimbledon final with her mum and dad.”

Sirius perked up. “I didn’t know she liked tennis.”

Harry sat up and served himself some food. “I was surprised when I found out.” 

“It’s like I learn something new about her every day,” Sirius commented. 

“Tell me about it.” Harry stabbed the bacon with his fork. “Did you know she took tennis lessons until she was fifteen?”

“No!”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, and football. She’s not a huge fan, but she watches and goes to matches with her dad.” 

Sirius swallowed the food in his mouth. “Speaking of Hermione. What should we get her for her birthday?”

“Her birthday? It’s still three months away.”

Sirius simply rolled his eyes. “Sure, but it’ll be here before we know it. She’s turning twenty-five. It should be something special.”

Harry pushed his eggs around. What should he get her? He hasn’t been paying attention to the books she’s been reading or wanting to read. He could get her another piece of jewelry, but wasn’t that a little to intimate?

“I know.” Sirius slapped his hand on the table. “A weekend in Paris!”

Harry blinked. “Isn’t that too much?”

“Nope. Besides, why have all this money unless we can spend it on the people we love. Let’s give her this trip. It doesn’t have to be a long one. A weekend is enough.”

“I don’t know.” Harry stared at his godfather. “What about tickets to the theatre? She hasn’t gone in a while.”

“Perfect! Tickets to the theatre in Paris. It’s settled.”

Harry groaned. 

“If you’re so worried, you should go with her. You need a holiday too.”

“I’m not worried,” Harry snapped.

“Sure you’re not.” Sirius used his fork to point at him. “You don’t want her to run off with some French bloke.”

“I do not,” he stared at his food. “You’re being ridiculous. Fine. If that’s what you want, we’ll book her a trip to Paris.”

“Excellent. A trip for two.”

Harry groaned again. 

* * *

Harry laid on a soft blanket, out in the back garden of his home. The sun was low in the sky, barely any sunlight trickled over the horizon, day giving way to night. He took a deep breath. 

The calm silence was broken up by the shrill ringing of his cellphone. He answered it without checking the caller ID. 

“Yes?” 

“Oh, you don’t sound very happy,” Hermione’s voice traveled into his ear.

“Hermione, hey. How was the tennis match?” 

“Amazing! I was rooting for the other player, but it was a good match. We’re heading to the men’s final tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Harry scratched his belly. 

“So, I was thinking about you today.”

He sat up. “You were?”

She giggled. “Yes. Your birthday is in a few weeks and I’ve been wondering what to get you.”

He grinned. “Yeah? So, what are you going to get me?”

“My dad won tickets to a music festival. He doesn’t want to go and gave them to me. it’s during the weekend of your birthday so I figured, maybe you’d like to go. It’s pretty much a bunch of concerts. Something you’ve never done before, remember?”

A music festival. Outdoors. Live music. That’s definitely something he’s never done before. 

She continued, “I know it’s totally different from what you’re used to, but it’s something new. I thought it could be fun.”

“It’s still a few weeks,” she sighed over the line, “and I’ll understand if you make different plans. Just let me know.”

“Thanks for thinking of me, Hermione.”

She scoffed. “Of course, Harry. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

She hung up. He set his phone aside, laid back down and stared at the newly darkened sky. 

* * *

Week 30

“Harry, are you listening?” 

He blinked and turned to face Astrid. Her brown eyes narrowed. “Yeah, what were you saying?”

Astrid set her pencil and notebook down. “Is everything alright?”

He nodded. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You seem distracted,” she answered simply. She stood up from the armchair and joined him on the loveseat. One knee nudged against his leg, while she rested her hand on his thigh. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

Harry shook his head. He concentrated on the cup of tea Astrid had set on the coffee table for him. The heat trails had long since disappeared. How long had he been sitting there?

Something was tickling his jaw. He turned slightly and discovered Astrid placing soft kisses down his throat. The hand previously on his thigh was now reaching under his shirt. 

“Astrid,” he strained. 

She jolted back and jumped to her feet. “Not even that?” She threw her hands in there air. “Merlin, Harry, do you even want to be here?”

His mouth felt dry. Did he? 

She let out a frustrated yell at his silent answer. She stalked around the coffee table. “Right, you obviously want to be somewhere else, with someone else.”

He looked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She pursed her lips. “Exactly what it sounds like. You’d rather spend your time with someone who is not your girlfriend, like Hermione Granger or that Luna whatever her last name is.”

“What?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Come on, Harry. Hannah Abbott is my friend. Don’t you think she’d tell me that she spent a morning with all of you and that you and Hermione Granger spent the rest of the day together?”

“It wasn’t the rest of the day,” he corrected.

“Does it matter? You spend more time with her than you do with me, your girlfriend.”

He stood, clenching his hands at his sides. “You can’t honestly know that.”

“Oh, sure. You talk to her more than you talk to me. You probably see her almost every day.”

“We work in the same building,” his eyes blazed, “of course I’m going to see her often. Are you mad that I see Ron and Neville every day too?”

She screeched and fumbled over her words. “That’s not the same and you know it.” She stamped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing for your birthday, hm?”

He came around the love seat and headed toward the front door. 

“Harry!”

He grabbed the doorknob. “I’m spending it with my friends,” he answered coldly. “Bye, Astrid.”

He wrenched the door open and slipped out, slamming the door behind him. 


	13. Week 28

Week 28 

Harry stared at Hermione’s legs. Sirius snickered beside him, making him jerk and look away. He stared at his own attire: jeans, a loose t-shirt, and trainers. 

But Hermione was wearing boots, shorts (shorter than he was used to), and a loose white top. 

“Do you have boots or a pair of wellies?” She shifted her foot forward, showing off her own. “It might be muddy.”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll go get them.” Harry scrambled back up to his room and searched the cupboard for his boots. He switched shoes and hurried back downstairs. 

“You look cute, Hermione,” said Sirius. 

“Thanks, Sirius. I’ll make sure to bring Harry back at a reasonable time,” she teased. 

Sirius laughed. He pulled her into a tight hug. “You two have fun.” He let her go in time to bring Harry into his arms. “Have a good day, Harry. Happy Birthday.” 

Harry hugged his godfather back. “Thanks, Sirius.”

Sirius pushed Harry toward the front door. “Don’t do anything I would.”

Hermione laughed out the door. 

* * *

Harry followed Hermione closely. Her hand found his as she led him to the security checkpoint. “It’s going to be crowded,” she told him. “If you need some space or feel overwhelmed, just let me know.”

They passed through security and the ticket checkpoint with ease. Once fully inside the festival grounds, it seemed as if they entered a different world. It was louder and busier, with people walking about and pushing past them and music coming from all around. 

“Is that a Ferris wheel?” Harry blinked at the ride in the distance.

Hermione laughed beside him. “Sure is. Should we get something to drink and then walk around?”

Hermione had pushed a cup of strawberry lemonade into his hands and began chattering about the festival lineup. 

“It’s all different kinds of music. Rock. Pop. R&B. You’ll find something you’ll like. I’m sure of it.” She led them down a row of stalls crowded with food and goods for purchase. “So what did Sirius get you for your birthday?”

He held back a laugh. “You’re going to think it’s typical.”

“I won’t.”

He glanced at the shirts laid out on a display table. “He got me tickets to the Quidditch Club World Cup Finals.”

She gasped. “That’s brilliant! Are you and Sirius going to go? Where is it hosted this year?”

“It’s in Japan.”

She nudged his shoulder. “Harry, that sounds so exciting. You two are going to have so much fun.”

Harry shrugged. “We’ve never done something like this before.”

“An even greater reason to start. It’s good to try and do new things.” 

“I guess.”

Hermione laughed under breath. “The first set I want to see starts around eleven. Let’s go look for the stage.” 

They walked past the stalls with food and merchandise, moving around small stages with performers and the crowds of people formed around them, until they came up to a medium-sized stage with an already growing amount of people waiting in front of it. 

The people on stage were readying the instruments and going over final sound checks. 

“So,” Hermione said, “what’s new with you?”

“Nothing really. Just a year older.”

She leaned her head on his arm. “How’s Astrid?”

Harry took a sip of his lemonade. “I don’t know.”

She straightened up. “What do you mean?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s over between us. I haven’t talked or seen her in two weeks.”

“What happened?” 

He turned, meeting her concerned eyes. “I was a complete arse. That’s what happened.”

She scoffed. “That’s hard to believe.”

He shook his head. “That’s reassuring, Hermione, but it’s the truth. I was a bad boyfriend. Honestly, she deserves better.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Me too.”

People began to fill in the spaces around them, clapping and cheering at the empty stage. 

Suddenly, the crowd began to cheer loudly and scream. A group of five walked on to the stage, taking up positions at their instruments and the microphone. 

The lead singer greeted them, made a brief comment on the beautiful day they were having, and then signaled for their bandmates to begin. 

This pattern was repeated frequently throughout the day, as Hermione led him from stage to stage - singing and dancing along with the performers. 

He tossed away the only beer he had for the day and let Hermione drag him to yet another stage. The sun had set a while ago and the only light they could see by was from the stages or from the little lights strung up around the grounds. 

Bodies pressed around them, sweat tinged forms carrying the scent of spilled beer and smoke. 

“Are you okay?” Hermione said over the buzz. 

He found her hand and tugged softly. 

The large stage far in front of them lit up as someone began to walk up to the microphone, the starting chords of the song following them. Their voice echoed across the expanse and the crowd around them cheered. 

They began to sing and in unison, the crowd sang along. Harry whipped his head around. His eyes widened at the sight of Hermione beside him, swaying and singing along. 

“Let me hear you!” The singer called out, holding the microphone out to the crowd.

Harry was sure it was over a thousand people, singing in rhythm, transcending anything he’d ever heard or experienced. 

He felt his spine tingle and his skin prickle. This person’s voice and the energy of the crowd literally made his body tremble. 

He joined in the clapping and grinned as Hermione joined in with the singing or dancing or jumping. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her this loose or elated. 

It was almost like feeling the lightness of alcohol without having the actual drink. It was invigorating and exciting. And loud. So loud. 

He found himself wishing it would never end. 

* * *

Harry tried to relax against the seat. Hermione warmly tucked into his side. Thankfully they didn’t have to share their car, considering how small it was. It barely fit the two of them. He rested his arms behind Hermione and watched as the ground grew further and further away. 

“My feet hurt so much,” Hermione whined.

“Mine too, but I haven’t been prancing about as you have.”

She rested her head on his chest. “Did you have a good time, Harry?”

He squeezed her shoulder, pulling her further into his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “The best, Mai. Thank you.”

The Ferris Wheel stilled, their car crested over the top. 

“Happy Birthday, Harry.”

He stared out into the night sky, feeling the lightest he’s felt in a long time. 


	14. Week 26

Week 26

Ron cleared his throat and straightened his legs out. Harry lay behind him, slouched across Hermione’s sofa. While Hermione sat on the ground adjacent to Ron, scribbling some notes onto a paper. 

“Hermione,” Ron said softly. 

“Yes?”

“Are you looking to date anyone right now?”

Both Hermione and Harry turned to stare at him. Hermione wide-eyed and Harry practically gawking. 

Ron’s face was flushed. “I’m just wondering because someone in the office has been asking about you.”

Harry sat up. “Who?”

Ron looked at him quizzically. “Banister.” He turned back to Hermione. “He’s older than us, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He didn’t want to push for a date or anything, he just told me he’d like to be introduced to you.” 

Hermione pushed her fingers through her hair. “I haven’t really thought about dating again. But, I guess I wouldn’t mind just meeting him.” 

Ron wiped his hands on his jeans. “Great. I’ll introduce you two whenever you come by the office.”

Hermione stretched to her feet. “What should we have for dinner? Pizza?” She shuffled out of her little sitting-room and ventured into her kitchen. 

Harry whacked Ron in the shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“What?” Ron whined. “I was just asking. She doesn’t have to meet him.”

“Banister, really?” Harry slid off the sofa, sitting down on the floor beside Ron. “He’s a hit wizard.”

“And? He’s a good bloke, plenty smart. He seems to be her type too.”

Harry’s brows creased in thought. “Type?”

“Come one, you know,” Ron’s face flushed further, “tall, dark hair. Most of the people she’s dated have looked like that.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, there’s no guarantee anything will come from this.” 

“True.” 

“Pizza’s in the oven,” Hermione announced from the kitchen. 

“So,” Ron lowered his voice, “you and Astrid?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m going to take a break, like Hermione.”

Ron laughed lightly. “Let’s see how that goes.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Girls hardly leave you alone, Harry, Boy-Who-Lived.”

Harry groaned. 

Ron braced Harry’s shoulder and used him to help get to his feet. He walked into the kitchen. “I think I’ll head out.”

“I’m making pizza!”

He laughed loudly. “Alright, I’ll stay for a slice or two, but then I have to head home.”

Hermione scoffed. “Slice or two, as if.”

Harry leaned his head back against the sofa. 

* * *

Hermione reached up and kissed Ron on the cheek. “Say hello to your mum for me.”

“Will do. Later, Harry.” Ron stepped back and disapparated with a crack. 

She rejoined Harry at the table and grabbed another slice of pizza. He was currently nibbling on his fourth and skimming over the muggle newspaper. 

“It’s still kind of early,” she said carefully, “do you want to do something?”

Harry shrugged, keeping his eyes on the paper. “Like what?”

“Should we go see a movie?”

“Okay.” Harry stuffed the rest of his pizza in his mouth. “Let’s go,” he muffled.

They readied themselves, getting shoes, wallets, and their wands and disapparated together. 

They jostled together down the street, weaving between people on the crowded sidewalk. 

They arrived at the movie theatre. Harry pulled Hermione closer as they lined up to purchase tickets. 

“What should we watch?” Hermione reviewed the showtimes and movies available. “Something funny? Action? That one is a psychological horror film, supposedly.”

Harry considered carefully. “I’m not in the mood for something funny. The horror one starts in ten minutes.” 

Harry purchased their tickets and in the lobby asked if Hermione wanted any snacks. “I’m buying,” he reassured her. 

“You don’t have to -”

“I want to.” Harry got in line for food and bought them some popcorn and a drink. 

When they entered their theatre, they quickly found seats toward the back and settled in. 

Hermione took a quick sip of her drink and set it back down between them. “You only bought one, does this mean I have to share my soda?”

Harry tugged on his jeans. “I’m not really thirsty, but yeah. I assumed it would be okay if I took a few sips.”

She glared at him playfully.“You’re lucky it’s me and I’m not greedy with my food or drinks.”

“Hey, I got your favorite though.”

“Yeah, you did. Thanks, Harry.”

The theatre room darkened and after a series of movie trailers, the movie began. 

Hermione jumped and slunk back into her seat more often than she would have liked and she smacked Harry’s arm whenever he snickered at her jumpiness. 

After the movie, Hermione and Harry slowly walked through a shopping corridor, letting the flow of people lead them. 

“Well, the movie had a happy ending of sorts,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, but she did kill her good friend.”

“It was an accident,” she quickly defended. “That was sad though. But, what do you think about the town they lived in?”

Harry shrugged. “What about it?”

“They lived inside a nature preserve. No one inside knew. What if we did something like that? But for magical persons.”

Harry blinked. “That’s how preserves for dragons work, don’t they?” 

“Britain doesn’t have a livable area sectioned off for just magical persons, that’s not Hogsmeade. When I was in Greece, I visited a cluster of villages that were borderline cities that was just magical people and those aware of magic.” Hermione munched on some popcorn. “I wonder if something like that is possible here.”

Harry grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Who knows.” 

“Thanks for hanging out with me, Harry.”

His forehead furrowed. “You don’t have to say thanks. It’s not like it’s an obligation.” 

She beamed. “That’s sweet, Harry.”

“What? It’s not.” He finished off his popcorn. “So, do you think you’ll go out with Banister?”

“Come on Harry, I haven’t even met him yet…”

He shot her a sideways glance. “But…”

“I don’t know. I’m enjoying my time just being on my own. It’s been great. Not preoccupied with another person’s schedule. I can hang out with my friends and family whenever I want. I can sleep late or sleep in. Go wherever I want with whoever.”

He stared at her skeptically. “Your boyfriends didn’t let you do that?”

She took a deep breath. “Not like that, it’s just, I always tried to consider what they were doing. If they wanted to spend time together. That communication takes time. And yeah, sometimes they wouldn’t like it if I hung out with just you or Ron.”

Harry stopped suddenly, making someone bump into him. The passerby grumbled under their breath and kept walking. 

“Your boyfriends didn’t like you hanging out with us?” This was news to him. 

She scrunched up the now empty popcorn bag and tossed it in the nearest bin. “Some were a little uncomfortable with it. But, I thought if they got to know you and Ron better they wouldn’t be so worried. I think they were a little more worried about Ron since he’s my ex-boyfriend.” 

“Didn’t they trust you?” 

“I don’t know,” she grumbled. “It doesn’t matter now.” 

“I trust you,” he stated casually and began walking again. 

She snickered. “Thanks, Harry, but you’re not my boyfriend.” 

He took her hand and tucked it in the curve of his arm. “I still trust you though. I trust you won’t try to get into my pants or give me food poisoning.” 

Hermione let out a trill of laughter. “Harry, sometimes you’re just odd. I don’t think a lot of people see that side of you.” 

“Of course not,” he tightened his hold of her hand. “I don’t trust them.” 


	15. Week 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the longest chapter you'll read in this story. Hope you enjoy!  
They're finally off to Paris~

Week 22

Harry stumbled out of the lift and hurried down the corridor toward Hermione’s office. 

“Is she in?” He called out to Mrs. Fawley. 

“Good morning, Auror Potter, how can I help you today?” She asked casually. 

He raced past her and burst into Hermione’s office. She jumped at the sight of him. She was standing beside the faux-window, the morning light casting an odd glint against her skin. 

“Goodness, Harry, what’s the hurry?”

He held his hands up. “Don’t get mad.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Oh, no. What is it?” 

“Sirius decided -”

His voice was soon drowned out by the sound of a string quartet, playing something that sounded like ‘happy birthday’. 

Her eyes grew wide. “What?” She mouthed. 

It couldn’t have been possible, but her eyes grew wider as numerous balloons overtook the doorway of her office. 

She could barely see the legs of the body currently holding the monstrosity of balloons. 

Sirius’s head poked through the balloons. Hermione held her hands over her mouth, but it couldn’t muffle her laughter. 

“Happy Birthday, love!”

Hermione carefully moved around her desk. “Sirius, this is too much.”

“You only turn twenty-five once, Hermione!” 

Her smile grew, her joy evident in the shine of her eyes. “That’s a lot of balloons.”

“There’s twenty-five,” he said loudly. 

“How am I going to keep them here or take them home?”

“Don’t worry, look.” Sirius tapped one of the balloons with his wand and within a second, the balloons transformed into a bouquet of vibrant flowers. “Remus helped me with that.” 

She gasped. “They’re beautiful.” 

Sirius set the flowers on her desk and spread his arms wide. She took one step and practically jumped into his arms. “Sirius, this is so sweet, thank you.” 

He hugged her tightly. “Anything for you, love. Happy Birthday.” He rubbed her back. “I hope you like what Harry and I got you.”

She peered up at him. “There’s more?” 

He grinned widely. “You have no idea, little witch.” 

* * *

Hermione rolled her small suitcase to the door. “You be good now, Crookshanks.” She crouched down and rubbed the top of his head. “Have fun with Sirius.”

Sirius hugged Harry tightly. “You two have fun. This is supposed to be a stress-free holiday.”

“Thanks again, Sirius,” Hermione said. 

Sirius pushed Harry toward the door and kissed Hermione on the cheek. “Enjoy your gift, Mai. We’ll see you in a few days.” 

She nodded happily and led the way out of the house. Harry followed slowly behind with his duffle bag over one shoulder. They walked to the end of the dirt path and disapparated to their portkey location in Dorset. 

Hermione let go of Harry’s hand, noticing how dry his palm felt. She chanced a glance over her shoulder and deflated at the sight of Harry’s far off gaze. 

“Harry?”

He blinked slowly and turned to face her. 

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

He pushed his glasses up. “Why do you say that?”

She kicked her booted foot against the dirt. “You probably rather do something else.” 

His eyes searched hers. “No, I don’t. I’ve known about this trip for almost two months. I could’ve backed out anytime.” 

The portkey operator appeared ahead of them. He waved at them casually before setting down a broken terracotta pot on the ground. 

Harry grabbed Hermione’s suitcase and began walking toward the operator and portkey. “This is my first holiday.” 

Hermione jogged a little to catch up. “Are you serious?”

He grinned. “I’m Harry.” 

She whacked him on the arm. “You’ve never taken a holiday?”

He shook his head. “Nope. First holiday. First time in Paris. I’m glad I’m going with one of my best friends.” 

Hermione knocked her shoulder into his. “Awe, Harry. You’re going to make me blush.” 

He grinned at her. “That’s fine.” 

“Harry!”

* * *

An international portkey is an experience all in itself. Domestic portkey travel left one winded and nauseous. For Harry, international portkey travel left him throwing up the small breakfast he had. 

He felt Hermione rubbing small circles on his back. She spoke softly and soothingly, assuring him it was okay and it was quite normal to expel the insides of your stomach. 

He swished some water she had conjured up around his mouth and spit. He wiped his mouth clean and straightened up. “I’m alright.” 

She smiled and nodded. “Let’s go check into our hotel and start the day!” 

She happily (and to Harry’s great relief) led the way from the small courtyard they appeared in. Did they arrive in a place where any random muggle could see them? 

“Don’t worry,” Hermione voiced over her shoulder, “it’s enchanted to keep muggles away and distracted.” 

She looked down at their hotel confirmation. “It says here that it’s only a few blocks from the portkey location. The hotel is called Ruby Heritage Hotel, keep an eye out for it.” 

“Well, is it going to be in French?” Harry rolled the suitcase beside his feet, ensuring he didn’t roll over the pedestrian’s feet. 

Hermione groaned. “Ugh, you’re right.” 

They walked quietly for a few minutes and taking in the sights, smells, and sounds around them. They past countless storefronts, cafes, and restaurants. Hermione briefly commented on which ones they should visit.

Suddenly, she squealed and grabbed Harry by the arm. “You got us a hotel with a view of the Eiffel Tower! Harry!” 

She practically jogged the last few spaces to the front door of their hotel. She pulled the door open and disappeared inside. 

Harry took his time walking to the door, laughing at himself at the sight of Hermione running off and trying to memorize what the outside of their hotel looked like and the street names. 

At the door, Hermione reappeared and apologized sheepishly. “I was excited.”

He smiled at her. “I can see that.” 

* * *

Hermione twirled out of the hotel lobby. They already checked in, saw their rooms and left their bags, Hermione had squealed and danced around both their rooms and now it was time to explore Paris. 

"What first, Harry? Do you want to see the Eiffel Tower? Notre Dame?" 

"Whatever you want to do first, Hermione. It's your birthday gift." 

She wrapped her arm around his. "I can't believe we're in Paris for my birthday!" 

He blew out a puff of air. "Me either." 

Hermione quickly grabbed his arm and walked in the direction of the closest metro station. She led them into the station and bought a pair of passes. She handed Harry a pass and walked up to a metro line map, trying to quickly go over the route they should take. 

“So, where are we going?” 

“Notre Dame de Paris!”

* * *

It was quite awe-inspiring, standing in front of such an architectural marvel. Harry had only felt something similar whenever he stood within the facade of Hogwarts Castle. 

He smiled as he felt Hermione squeeze his hand and urged him to pose in front of the cathedral. 

She snapped a picture with her disposable camera. 

“Don’t you want a picture in front of Notre Dame?” Harry asked her. 

She fiddled with the camera. “I wouldn’t mind taking a photo together.”

She asked a passing tourist if they could take the photo and quickly jogged over to where Harry was standing. 

He slung his arm around her shoulder and smiled. The camera clicked and the person handed it back to Hermione. They smiled at both of them. “You two look good together. Is it your first time in Paris?” They asked with a lilt. 

Harry gaped and stumbled over his words, but Hermione answered simply. “It’s his first time and I wanted to make sure I show him my favorite sites.” 

“That’s wonderful. You know, traveling abroad helped me realize my husband was the one. After you face language barriers, mishaps at your hotel, and delayed flights, you can face anything together.”

Hermione cooed at the right time. “That’s so sweet.”

They waved and walked off to join, who Hermione and Harry assumed, was their husband. 

Harry let out a puff of air. “That was…” 

“Kind of pushy? I usually don’t worry about it. We’re never going to see them again anyway. Come on, we have to go inside.” 

The duo followed the stream of people into an already crowded cathedral. All the while, Hermione chattered beside Harry, discussing the little history she knew of Notre Dame, her commentary of the architecture and the stained glass. 

They both sighed in relief when they finally made it back outside. They had walked a few spaces away when Harry asked, “what’s next?”

“There are a few parks this way, we can find something to eat and have a picnic?” 

Harry agreed and together they walked across the Seine River. They turned on the cobble lined street and headed toward a nearby park. 

He grabbed Hermione’s arm suddenly. “Look, there’s a bookstore.” 

Hermione whirled around and gasped lightly. 

Harry nudged her shoulder. “Come on, it’s your birthday and we’re in Paris.”

“You’re right!” Hermione clapped her hands together and hurried into the shop. 

Harry followed slowly. His attention roamed around the cozy bookstore, noting the patrons and myriad of colors and titles, the overflowing shelves and books stacked upon tables, but he stayed close to Hermione, holding his hands out every now and then to hold a book she passed over to him. 

They were safely tucked into a little corner when her giggling knocked him out of his reverie. 

“What is it?” 

“This book,” she held it up, showing him the cover. 

He suddenly felt his cheeks heat up. “What are you reading?” His voice squeaked. 

She giggled again. “Some girl who shacks up with a dragon.”

“A dragon?” The topless, well-muscled man with his arms wrapped around the scantily clad woman didn’t look like a dragon. He looked around the store again. He didn’t recognize anything magical. “Is that a muggle book?”

“Yes. I think I’m going to get it.”

“Are you serious?”

She added it to the stack of books he was carrying. “I’m Hermione.”

* * *

After the bookstore, they followed the directions a store clerk gave them and walked the fifteen minutes too Luxembourg Palace. Hermione carried their food to a shady spot, while Harry carried the load from the bookstore. 

Hermione glanced around to make sure no one was looking and transfigured a blanket for them to sit on. They both plopped down on the blanket. 

Hermione laid down and stretched her arms over her head. “This is the best birthday ever.” 

Harry dug into their take out bag and spread out their food. “This is the life, eating Japanese food while in the middle of Paris.” 

She nodded energetically and then groaned as she sat up. She grabbed a chicken dumpling and stuffed it in her mouth. 

Harry picked up his yakitori and began to eat. Hermione grabbed her bowl of yakisoba and observed her friend while he was distracted. His green eyes roamed around their blanket before jumping to the trees around them and picking up on the people who strolled by. He finished off his second stick of yakitori and grabbed his katsudon. 

“Are you having a good time?” 

He looked up, his eyebrows hid behind his long fringe of hair. “Of course I am. I think I’m having such a good time because I’m here with you.”

Hermione’s cheeks warmed. 

“I don’t think I’d ever do something like this on my own,” Harry continued. 

She smiled brightly. “First time for everything. I’m glad you came with me.” 

She finished her bowl and laid back down. She reached over and grabbed the first book from her shopping bag. She chuckled at the cover and flipped it open to a random page. “I’m going to read you some pages from the dragon-shagging book.”

“They shag a dragon?” Harry exclaimed. 

Hermione laughed aloud. 

After a few saucy pages that made them both blush, finishing and cleaning up their lunch, they stretched to their feet and began walking around the garden of Luxembourg Palace. 

They posed in front of the palace and took a few individual photos as well. Eventually, once the sun was low in the afternoon sky, they decided to head back to their hotel. 

Luckily for Harry, Hermione had already decided what they would do that evening.

Harry buttoned up his dark blue dress shirt and fastened his belt. He fixed his shoes and then knocked softly on the adjoining door that led into Hermione’s room. 

“Come in!”

Her hotel room was a mirror image of his. Champagne colored walls and a large gold-toned rug. The only thing different was her double-sized bed was set in front of the window.

Harry strolled in and found Hermione perched on the end of her bed trying to fasten her heels. He kneeled down in front of her and took her foot in his hands, doing the fastens. “Will you be able to walk in these?”

“Of course! I’ve had loads of practice.”

He fastened her other heel, his fingers lingered around her ankle. He looked up. “Hermione, you look beautiful.” 

Hermione pushed a loose lock of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes were lined black, her long lashes flared out, and her lips a deep smoldering maroon. 

She beamed. “Thank you, Harry. You look handsome.” 

He helped her to her feet. She slipped on her coat, grabbed her purse, and together they walked out of their hotel and headed toward the Eiffel Tower. 

“We’ll definitely go to Louvre tomorrow and maybe we can find the magical shopping district,” Hermione told him as they walked arm and arm toward the landmark. 

They arrived at the Eiffel Tower just as dusk settled around them. Hermione slipped her arm out of Harry’s hold and twirled away from him. “Oh, isn’t it beautiful.” 

Hermione took out her camera and urged him to pose in front of the tower. “I hope the photo comes out alright.”

Harry waved down a passerby and asked them to take a picture of Hermione and himself. He wrapped his arm around her waist and smiled. 

Hermione thanked them profusely and stowed her camera away. “Let’s enjoy the view for a little bit before we go to the club.” 

Harry led them to a newly emptied bench. He plopped down and nestled her into his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. 

“Is there somewhere in the world you want to go to?” Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. 

“I have no idea. I’ve never really thought about it. I guess I’m a bit of a homebody.” 

She patted him on the leg. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Thanks, Mai.” 

The night darkened completely. Harry took her hand and brought her to her feet. Together they walked away from the Eiffel Tower and down an avenue toward the club one of the hotel clerks had recommended. 

He held the door open for her and winced slightly at the booming music. They found a small table off to the side. Hermione slipped her coat off and rested it over her chair. 

A waiter walked by and took their drink order. Minutes later, two glasses of wine and a cup of water appeared on their table. 

The light was low and glowed a warm yellow. A large dance floor was off to the side and there was a large stage beside it where a live band was currently playing. 

Harry took a gulp of his water before picking up his glass of wine. Hermione had already downed half her glass. 

He lowered his glass after a few sips and rested his gaze on his companion. Her cheeks had pinkened either from the warmth of the club or the wine she just drank. He blinked at her dark lips and noticed how bare her collarbone and chest were. The top of her dark blue dress dipped down into a deep v-neckline and hugged her waist, letting the skirt flare out slightly at the hips to allow adequate movement. 

He tipped his wine back and attempted to distract himself from the view she was offering him (and the damn club). 

Hermione licked her lips and set her now empty wine glass aside. “Will you dance with me?”

His glass clinked against the table. “I’m pants at dancing, but if you’re alright with that.”

She jumped to her feet and gently took up his hand. “It’s my birthday so you’ll try your best.”

He gripped her hand tightly, kissed her on the side of her head, and carefully led her to the dance floor. Her warm hand and vibrations of the live music eased his rapidly beating heart. 

* * *

Hermione and Harry stumbled back to their hotel rooms well past midnight. Giggling, stifling shrieks of laughter and holding onto each other’s hands and arms to make sure neither fell over. 

They shuffled into Hermione’s hotel room, slamming the door shut behind them. 

Harry fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, hurrying to take off his stifling attire. 

Hermione dropped her purse onto the armchair and flung herself onto the bed. “My feet hurt,” she whined. 

Harry’s shirt disappeared on the way to the bed. He slumped down against the edge of the bed and began unstrapping a heel. 

“Harry!”

“What? Are you going to sleep with your shoes on? Do I have my shoes on?” He was silent a moment. 

She felt her heel leave her foot and watched it fly over his shoulder. His hands moved to her other foot. His fingers fumbled over the strap. She giggled and shifted as she felt his fingers trace over her calf and his breath tickling her skin. 

He mumbled and then grunted, slipping the heel off and tossing it aside. He huffed and climbed onto the bed beside her. “Is your bed supposed to be by the window?” His voice was low and husky. 

Hermione stretched and turned on to her side. “It’s so you can see the Eiffel Tower in the morning.”

He slipped his arm around her waist. “That’s nice.” 

She burrowed into the covers of her bed, feeling Harry curve around her. She jumped slightly and reached around her, gripping his belt. “Get this off, it’s hurting me.” 

He huffed against her shoulder. He reached down and undid the clasp of his belt, bumping into her bum, hips, and legs haphazardly. He crushed her for a moment which resulted in an elbow in his stomach. 

He finally slipped the belt out of the loops and threw it aside. He wrapped his arm around her waist again and rested his forehead on her back between her shoulders. 

Harry felt Hermione relax against him and sensed the moment her breathing slowed. He blinked against the dark and briefly wondered if it should be wrong to enjoy having her in his arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five more chapters to go!


	16. Week 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I want to say thanks to everyone who has read, left kudos, and commented on this story. You made my 2019 all the more brighter. You've all definitely given me a boost of confidence and I'm glad I decided to publish this story (and not leave it in the dark corners of my WIP folders). 
> 
> Our friends are back in England and as we wind down this story, I hope you're looking forward to Part II, coming at the end of January.

Week 21 

“You look happy, Hermione.”

Hermione glanced away from the jigsaw puzzle she was assembling with Ginny. Well more like she was assembling herself, while Ginny drank all her hard lemonade. 

“I am happy.”

Ginny lifted a brow. “Does it have anything to do with that romantic weekend in Paris?”

Hermione blushed. “It wasn’t a romantic weekend!”

Ginny stared at the photos spread out on the coffee table. “It seems pretty romantic too me. I don’t think I’ve seen Harry this relaxed in a long time.” She took a sip from her bottle. “Being an Auror puts a lot of stress on him. Even Ron is and does the oddest things to relieve that stress. Like woodworking. Who does that?” She muttered the last part.

Hermione picked up the photo of her and Harry posing in front of the Eiffel Tower. It turned out really well. It wasn’t overexposed and lucky for them everything was in focus. 

She picked up another photo - this one at the Louvre. Waking up that morning was the most embarrassed she’d ever felt around him and that fact left her feeling odd. She had drooled all over her pillow, her hair was a rat’s nest, and her dress had ridden up. 

Harry’s seen her in worse conditions! So, why did this particular morning still resurface in her mind and make her face heat up?

Well, she couldn’t forget Harry’s hold around her, which was firm and heavy and the way he snored into her ear. Or the fact that one of the first things she felt as she woke was - good Godric she couldn’t even think about it. 

She placed a cool hand against her cheek. 

But their photo in front of the Louvre didn’t display any of that shared embarrassment. It showed two friends laughing and having fun. Not a single care in the world. 

Ginny hummed and moved her attention to another photo. 

“What is it?” Hermione snapped open her own bottle of lemonade. 

“You’re cute together, that’s all.”

“There’s nothing going on.”

Ginny shrugged. “I know. Why is that?”

Hermione shivered as the cold lemonade went down her throat. “What do you mean?”

Ginny leaned against the sofa. “Why aren’t you and Harry dating? Or dated?”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth. “I don’t know. We’re just friends.”

Ginny hummed again. “Well, there’s nothing stopping you from being more than friends.”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s not like that. I don’t think it could ever be like that.”

“He’s fit,” Ginny said in between giggles.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I know that.” She sighed. “I don’t want to even try thinking of Harry like that. He’s my best friend.”

Ginny examined another photo. This one had Harry and Hermione in front of the Eiffel Tower again, but this time in the daylight. They both looked beyond content and there was no space between them. 

Ginny turned to look at Hermione, who had resumed her puzzle. Was it odd to believe that there could be something more between her two friends?

* * *

Tonks thumped harshly against Harry’s back and ruffled his hair. “Paris did you good, didn’t you?”

He waved her off. “It sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“You should take breaks more often,” Tonks slumped against the dinner table, luckily the boxes of pizza had been moved to the counter. “It’s good for the soul. That and sex, but I’m not going to talk to you about that.”

Harry hid his face in his hands. “Please don’t. That’s the last thing I want to hear!” 

Tonks laughed loudly. She stumbled around the table and met Remus at the counter. 

Harry peeked through his fingers and caught Sirius rolling his eyes. His godfather was flipping through the photos from the Paris trip, dividing them up into separate piles. 

“What are you doing?” 

Sirius briefly looked at him. “I’m picking out the ones I want to be framed.”

“What? No.” Harry reached over and tried to snatch the photos away, but Sirius was too quick and slapped his hand. 

“These are mine!” Sirius whined. “I want to see my godson and his best friend happy and smiling around the house.” 

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled. 

“You did have a good time right?” Sirius gathered up the photos. He placed the night and day Eiffel Tower photos side by side. “I didn’t force you to do something you didn’t want to?”

Harry shook his head. “We both had a good time.”

Sirius nodded. “I’m glad.” He tapped his finger against the photo. “You two look really good here.”

“Thanks?”

Sirius chuckled under his breath and shook his head in disbelief. 

“What?” Harry leaned forward. 

“You can be dense sometimes,” was all Sirius said before he picked up the photos and stepped out of the kitchen.

Harry glared at the back of Sirius’s head. He slid the few remaining photos toward him. The photo in front of him showed Hermione sitting on the ledge of a pool of water, in front of a large glass pyramid. She smiled brightly at the camera. 

Her delighted appearance gave no evidence to the embarrassment they experienced that morning. His face heated just thinking about it. Honestly, it wasn’t every day his best friend had to feel his morning erection, not to mention being practically felt up. 

They both blushed from head to toe. But, he couldn’t forget the feeling of her soft warm skin or the curve of her hip. Consciously, for the first time, he thought of the possibility of her being more than just a friend. 

She’s pretty, attractive. He’d always known that, but now he wondered what it would be like to hold her like that again. What if they had gone a little further? Taken more clothes off? Or if he had given in to the urge to trace his finger over her lips and - 

He slammed his hands over his face. Now what he was supposed to do?

Was he going to be able to push these thoughts away? They both decided to not do relationships. No. None. Zip. But, what if? He shook his head. No way. She would never consider it. Sex with a sort of acquaintance was straightforward, but sex with a friend, let alone his best friend was a different story altogether. 


	17. Week 19

Week 19

Hermione rubbed her hands together and watched Harry and Ron debate over what movie to buy tickets for. She figured the dancing movie was too much of a romantic comedy for Ron’s taste (not to mention he probably wouldn’t understand much of the references) Ron also couldn’t stand horror movies. 

“Look, this cinema is still showing the Arthur legend film. Let’s watch that one,” Ron offered. 

Harry turned to Hermione. “What do you think?”

She agreed. “I’m always up for a historical film.” 

Harry nodded and bought their tickets. Once inside the theatre, Harry and Hermione hurried to find seats and quietly fought over who would sit next to Ron.

“I sat next to him last time,” Hermione grumbled under her breath. 

“I don’t want to be stuck in the middle,” Harry whined back. 

In the end, it was Ron, Harry, and then Hermione. They quieted down as the film began. And they spent the next two and a half hours watching the film and listening to Ron softly wringing about the inaccuracies. 

“Merlin did not look like that.”

“Guinevere was a warrior?”

“Where the bloody hell is Morgana?”

After the movie, they picked up take out and returned to Hermione’s flat where Ron continued to fume over the film. 

“Merlin was a wizard!” Ron slammed his hand against the table. 

“Muggles don’t know that for sure, Ronald,” Hermione stabbed into a piece of chicken. 

“Well,” he continued around a mouthful of food, “at least that sex scene wasn’t too graphic. It was about to get a little uncomfortable with the two of you next to me.”

Harry choked on his soda. 

“That warrior-lady whoever is a looker.”

Hermione laughed. “She’s beautiful.”

“You know,” Ron placed his fork down, “I don’t know when it was the last time I even had sex.”

Hermione slapped her hand against her forehead. 

Harry groaned. “Oh, please don’t start.”

“But really,” Ron’s cheeks were pink. He pushed his food around. “It’s been kind of lonely.”

Hermione sighed. It’s been ages since she had sex too. Not since, she felt her face heat up - Greece.

“Well, get yourself a girlfriend,” Harry mumbled. He kept his eyes on his food. 

“Easy for you to say, boy-wonder.” Ron leaned onto his hands. “I wish I could just have someone where we can have sex, you know, but not be together.”

“Like a no-strings-attached relationship?” Hermione piped in. Ron and Harry whipped their heads toward her. She bit her lip. “What?”

“What’s a no-strings-attached relationship?”

“Have you had an NSA before?”

Ron and Harry exchanged glances before looking at Hermione again. 

She shifted slightly in her seat. “It’s what you described, Ron. It’s a relationship where you just have sex, without the regular boyfriend-girlfriend relationship.” 

“Oh.” He grabbed his fork again. “I probably couldn’t do something like that though. Not with everyone practically knowing who I am. Plus, being an Auror makes it extra difficult.” He eyed Hermione. “You could probably do it though.”

“Me?” She squeaked. 

He shrugged. “You can shag a muggle and not worry about anyone going to the press. I can’t find someone in the muggle world. I’d just muck it up.”

She crossed her ankles. “You have a point.” 

Ron stuffed the rest of his food into his mouth. “Well, this was fun.” He stood up and gathered up his empty food containers. “I gotta head home. I promised Fred and George I’d help in the shop tomorrow.” 

He tossed the trash away and then came back around to kiss Hermione on top of her head. “See you two later.” He stepped back toward the door and disapparated. 

Hermione stared at the empty space for a moment. Could she really find someone to start a no-strings-attached relationship? She wasn’t the type of person to just meet someone and jump into having sex. She’d rather know them first and deep down she knew that if it was just for sex - she wouldn’t be comfortable sharing an intimate part of herself with a stranger, especially when she’d have to hide a part of her identity. 

She had come to mildly regret that rendezvous in Greece. She worried whether Danil would ever share what happened between them. She was slightly reassured knowing that the status she held in magical Britain, didn’t reach or have the same effect abroad. 

“Hermione?”

“Huh?”

Harry had sat down on the couch without her realizing it. He looked at her quizzically. “I said, have you thought about doing something like that?” 

She turned to face him, propping one leg on the sofa. “No, but I can see the perks. Have you ever had something like that? Or thought about it?”

Harry tugged on his jeans. “Yeah.”

Hermione scoffed. “Yeah, what? Had a no-strings-attached or thought about it.”

“Had,” he mumbled.

She squealed. “Really? Do I know them.”

He pushed his hair out of his face. “No, and don’t think about finding out who it was because they don’t live here anymore.”

Hermione laughed. “Alright, alright. Anyway, I don’t know if I could do it. I don’t want to have sex with a practical stranger.”

“They don’t have to be strangers.”

She shrugged. “True. It could be like a friends with benefits thing? I think I’d rather be friends or at least really well acquainted with the one I’m having sex with. You know, like we talked about before. I just want to be able to be comfortable,” her face flushed, “try new and different things without worrying about them stabbing me in the back.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe I should just find a muggle to sleep with.”

“No,” Harry snapped. 

She raised her eyebrows. 

“I mean,” he wiped his hand over his face, “just hear me out, okay?” He shifted to face here. “I’ve been thinking about this and I’ve been debating whether or not to ask you,” he mumbled

He left the rest unsaid, but she heard him loud and clear. “You want us to have sex?” Her voice rose.

He nodded, unable to verbally confirm. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since that night in Paris.”

Her cheeks flamed and she recalled their tangled limbs, his heavy presence behind her, and her dress that did little to protect her dignity. 

“Harry, I’m sorry!”

He tensed. “It’s not like it was a bad thing and I just figured, we’re both single, I’m not looking to date anyone and I thought, maybe you wouldn't be so against it. We’re friends, we trust each other, and you can count on me not telling anyone about what you like in bed. I’ll even sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

She laughed lightly at that. “This is…”

His face paled and he gripped his knees. “I sprung it on you, I know. Would you think about it, at least?”

She licked her lips and braced herself. “And you’re serious about this?”

He nodded, meeting her eyes briefly. 

“I’ll think about it.” 


	18. Week 17

Week 17

Harry slumped out of the floo, dusting himself off haphazardly. As he tuned into his surroundings, he registered the hum of music. He stepped into the foyer and slowly went upstairs, following the strumming of guitars, beats of drumming, and high-pitched vibrato. 

His feet led him to Sirius’s study. The door was open so he peered inside. 

Sirius was laying on his brown faux-leather sofa, hands resting on his abdomen, and his eyes closed. 

Music was playing from a record player Harry had never seen before. He stepped into the study and from his new vantage point saw a few records spread out on the floor. 

“Sirius?”

Sirius’s gray eyes snapped open. He gave him a soft smile. “Harry, you’re home.”

Harry slunk his cloak off and tossed it over the back of the armchair before plopping down in the chair. “Who are you listening too?”

Sirius pushed himself up and sat back against the sofa. “Merlin, have I not introduced you to Queen?” He hid his face in his hands. “I’m a complete failure of a godfather.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “They sound good.”

“They’re better than good. They’re bloody brilliant.” He briefly looked over his shoulder. “I stomped around the attic and rummaged around for some of my and your mum’s old records. Most of them are over there.”

“My mum?”

Sirius smiled. “Your mum loved music. She’s the one who introduced me to rock n’ roll and jazz and the like.”

Harry blanched. Good Godric, there were still so many things he didn’t know about his parents. But really, why did it take him so long to learn about his mother’s preference for music?

Sirius stretched to his feet. “I’m going to go fly around. You wanna come with me?”

Harry shook his head. 

Sirius squeezed Harry’s shoulder. He walked past him but lingered in the doorway. “Did you and Hermione get in a fight?”

“What? No. Why do you ask?”

He heard Sirius sigh softly. “She hasn’t come by in a while. Remus told me she hasn’t come by the house either. She’s not out of town again, is she?”

“No.” She was definitely not out of town. She was probably just staying away because the last time he actually talked to her, he asked if she’d have sex with him. 

He wanted to slap himself. 

“Well, let her know it’s been too long since she’s visited. You know what, I’ll just write to her.” Sirius left the room before Harry could respond.

Harry scratched his head. He stood with a groan and sat down in front of the record player and gathered the records up. 

Did he completely muck it up with Hermione? She can say no and he’d totally be alright with it. Their continued friendship wasn’t dependent on whether or not they had sex. 

She was one of his best friends - he didn’t want to lose her. 

He laid down on the floor and closed his eyes, letting Queen soothe away the ache from his workday and the peculiar weight he felt on his chest.

* * *

Week 15

Hermione stepped out of the floo. She dusted the soot away and stepped out into the foyer, holding up her dish of chicken casserole. She stilled in the kitchen, finding it empty. 

Then, she heard the low hum of music coming from the back garden. She walked purposely to the back door, bumping into Tonks as she walked in. 

“Hermione, you’re here.” Her voice was low. She gave the younger witch a one-armed hug. “Teddy, Remus, Sirius, and Harry are outside. There’s a table set up for the food. I have to head over to my mum’s,” she rolled her eyes, “we forgot the treacle tart. I’ll be right back.”

Hermione nodded and watched Tonks walk away. She took a breath and carefully stepped out. A small smile came to her face at the sight of the low-lit garden. 

Little enchanted lights floated around the garden. A long wooden table was set aside with a few matching chairs and an assortment of food. Remus and Sirius were sitting in small plush garden chairs that she was sure were actually bean bags. 

She panicked a little. She couldn’t see Harry anywhere. She stamped softly to the table and set down the chicken casserole and that’s when she saw him - laying a little further out on a maroon blanket, with Teddy sitting beside him. A little child’s telescope was set up between them. 

But, first things first. 

She walked over to where Remus and Sirius were sitting. She placed her hand on Sirius’s shoulder. 

Sirius patted her hand softly. “Hey, love. I’m glad you’re here.”

She moved to kneel, but Sirius stopped her with a quick squeeze. He got to his feet and pulled her into a warm hug. 

She wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks for inviting me.”

She felt his chest rumble. He kissed the side of her head. “You’re family, Hermione.” 

Her stomach fluttered. She stepped out of her hold and attempted to distract herself. “So, you’re a fan of Queen?” 

Sirius smiled brightly. “You like Queen?”

She shrugged. “I suppose. My parents are fans. One of their first dates was at a Queen concert.”

Sirius laughed loudly. “You’re kidding!”

Remus pushed him away and hugged Hermione. “Don’t mind him.”

She chuckled into his shoulder. “I don’t.”

She finally moved away from them and slowly made her way to the blanket. “Harry?” 

He leaned his head backward, the smallest of smiles gracing his face. “You made it.”

She sat down on Teddy’s other side. “Of course I did.”

Harry sat up with a groan and began to laugh under his breath as Teddy launched himself into Hermione’s arms. 

“We’re stargazing, Mai.” He settled back behind his telescope, peering into the eyepiece. 

Hermione scooted a little closer to Harry. “Harry -” 

“Mai, what’s your favorite flower?” Teddy asked suddenly. 

Harry propped his leg up and rested his elbow on his knee. He leaned his chin in his hand and smiled at her sheepishly. 

She smiled back. She grazed her fingers over Teddy’s turquoise hair. “I like tulips.”

“Tulips? What are those?”

Hermione ripped out a blade of grass and transfigured it into a pink tulip. She handed it to Teddy. 

“Oh, that’s pretty.” Teddy rubbed his finger over the petals and then turned his attention back to his telescope. 

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” Harry muttered. 

“Of course, I was going to come. If you or Sirius need me, I’ll be there.”

He turned to the sky. “Right.” 

She moved a little closer. She reached up and carefully moved some strands of hair out of his face. “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

He closed his eyes at her touch. “I could do better.”

“Harry,” she chided. 

He took her hand in his, bringing clasped hands down to the blanket. “Are we okay?”

“Of course we are,” but she couldn’t stop her face from flushing.

“I thought you were avoiding me.” 

She squeezed his fingers. “I’ll admit, I kind of was. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

He scoffed. “The fact that you’ve taken this long to answer is an answer in itself.”

“Harry, I -”

He shook his head and let go of her hand. “You busy next month?”

She brought her hands to her lap. “Did you want to do something?”

“There’s a Queen cover band I want to see in London, they have a show the third week of November. I thought maybe you’d like to go with me.” 

“I’d love to go.” 

Teddy turned abruptly. “Where are you going? I want to go!”

“Teddy!” Tonks yelled from the food table. Teddy sprung up from the blanket and ran off. 

Hermione kept her attention on Harry. “It’s cold tonight, isn’t?” 

His green eyes met hers. “It usually is on Halloween.” 


	19. Week 12

Week 12

Harry’s eyes lingered on Hermione’s legs, which were currently covered by black skin-tight leggings. He blinked away and tried to meet her eyes, but he became distracted by the flowy thin-strap v-neck top that showed a generous amount of skin and much to his displeasure, cleavage. 

She slid on her denim jacket and grabbed her black clutch, stuffing her wand inside. “Ready.” She looked him over. She patted his leather-clad arm. “You look handsome, Harry. Leather suits you.”

He gulped and pulled on the collar of his gray shirt. “Thanks. You look amazing.”

She grinned at him, her brown eyes glittered. “Thank you. Compliments are always appreciated. Let’s go.”

He nodded, took her hand in his, and disapparated. They reappeared in an alley around the corner from the pub hosting 80s music night. They followed the flow of people and entered the pub. 

It was loud, crowded, and already filled with smoke and bodies bustling about the dance floor and around the tables. Harry held his hand firmly around Hermione’s, leading her to the bar to buy their drinks. 

“Aren’t you going to get hot with your jacket?” Hermione yelled over the music. 

Harry leaned over, his mouth hovered over her ear. “Magic, Hermione. Aren’t you?” 

She poked him in the stomach. “Just get our drinks.” 

He placed a quick kiss on her cheek and turned to get the bartender’s attention. 

While he ordered their drinks and waited, he felt Hermione shift and move beside him. Her hip bumped into him. Her hand brushed against his. 

He got their drinks and she led him to the corner of the bar top closest to the dance floor. She grabbed her drink and took a long sip. 

He downed half his orange flavored beer and his eyes fell on her bare collarbone, again. She said something, but the music drowned her voice out. He nodded and blinked at the sight of her pink tongue licking the corner of her mouth. 

They both finished their drinks and the moment Hermione divested herself of her beer bottle, she grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him to the dance floor. 

In the future, when he looked back on this moment, he probably should have realized that this was when it was all gonna go downhill. Hermione in the skin-tight pants, the damn strappy top that he wanted to reach out and rub it between his fingers, the way her hair swayed down her back. 

“Hermione?” Harry reached out to her. The sound of Queen settled over his skin, reverberating and vibrating against his very core. 

“Let’s just have fun, okay?” Her voice was close to his ear. 

_ Fun. _

They jumped around, sang, yelled along with a guy who sounded a league away from Freddie Mercury but it didn’t matter. 

They danced and she twirled around his arms. 

\- another one bites the dust, is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

\- don’t take it away from me, because you don’t know what it means to me 

Around and around until her back hit a wall, his hands were on her hips, and her hands were reaching beneath his shirt. 

He wedged his knee between her legs and leaned forward, pressing himself against her. 

Her fingers trailed up his torso. “Harry.”

His mouth found her neck. His lips at her pulse point and he hoped and wished, she wouldn’t push him away. 

His breath halted as he felt her nails drag along the side of his waist. “Harry,” she thrummed into his ear, “not here.” 

A smile came to his face. “Your place or mine?”

She giggled and his hands tightened around her hips. “Mine.” 

He nipped at her collar bone and stepped back, taking her hand firmly in his, he practically dragged her out of the pub just as Blondie started playing over the speakers. 

“Harry.” She grasped his arm, but the laughter that followed didn’t worry him. “You’re going too fast.” 

He pulled them back into the alley. He tucked them around a sharp corner and leaned his forehead against hers. “Hermione, your place or mine?” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a hot kiss on the underside of his jaw. “Mine.” 

They disapparated and their heated breaths were followed by a yowl and a flight of orange hair. “Sorry, Crookshanks,” Hermione barely said before attaching herself to Harry, tugging at his leather jacket, urging it off his shoulders. Her denim jacket joined his on the floor. 

His t-shirt soon followed as he led her to her bedroom. He left a trail of kisses on her neck and hissed when she dragged her nails down his arms and back. 

He fumbled with his belt and buckle of his jeans, unhooking it and dragging down the zipper. She reached for her top and he moaned, watching the silky top move over her head and finally giving him a view of her chest clad in a lacy gray bra. 

He squeezed her arse and trailed a hand down her leg, motioning for her to hook it around his waist. He urged her other leg up and picked her up, hurrying the rest of the way to her bed, all the while kissing her furiously. 

Finally making it to her bed, he sat down with Hermione on his lap. He forced himself away from her mouth, his eyes searching hers. 

Her brown eyes shined. She rested one hand against his neck and the other reached up, touching his lips softly. 

She ground against him, his erection strained against his jeans. But, then she slowly stepped out of his hold. She hooked her thumbs into her leggings. He gulped at the sight of her breasts bouncing slightly in front of him as she worked to peel off her clothes. 

Fuck, this was happening. This was really happening. 

Bare from the waist down, she leaned forward, grabbed one of his hands and placed it over the lacy bra - the only thing she was still wearing. “I want this, Harry,” her breath tickled his lips. 

He squeezed her nipple through the fabric and reached around her back to unhook the strap. He slipped off the shoulder straps and carefully pulled her bra down her arms, tossing it aside. He took her hand in his. He took a shaky breath and kissed her hard. 

* * *

“How was it?” Harry asked with a smirk. He was currently laying between her legs, resting his head against her stomach. Hermione’s knees knocked into his shoulders. 

Her chest moved up and down, her breathing was finally coming down. She threaded her fingers through his hair. He blinked at the touch and moved to kiss the space beside her belly button. 

She tugged on his hair. “I’m sure you know how it was.” 

He tilted his head, resting his chin over her belly. “A reassurance is greatly appreciated.” 

She shifted, a fresh wave of goosebumps spread over her skin. “I know you asked,” she whispered, “but is this a one-time thing?”

He gripped the sides of her thighs and eased himself up, propping her legs around his waist. “I don’t want it to be a one-time thing. Do you?” 

She shook her head, her tousled and completely tangled hair fell around her shoulders and across her pillow. 

He grinned. “That’s quite the reassurance.” He leaned down and peppered kisses down her torso, reaching the valley between her breasts and moving lower and lower. 

Her fingers found his hair again. “We need some rules though.” 

“Really, Hermione? Now?” 

“Yes, now,” she growled back. “No kissing.” 

“We just spent the better part of the night kissing.”

“I know, just, no more kissing on the lips for now on.” 

He licked his lips. “Anything else?” 

“Stop means stop.”

“Of course, Hermione. Bloody Hell.” 

She tugged on one of his hands. “We don't tell anyone and it’s just going to be sex. Nothing else.” 

“Yes, just sex. Speaking of sex, are you tired?” He returned his attention to her body, her heated skin beckoning him. 

“Are you serious right now?” 

“No, I’m Harry. Which you were literally screaming a few minutes ago. I didn’t think I fucked you that hard to make you forget.” 

She swatted the side of his arm. He caught her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. He made his way back down her torso, leaving kisses in his wake and hovered over her hips. “So, are you tired?”

She challenged him with a quirked eyebrow. “No.” 


	20. Week 7

Week 7

Secret. 

Neither told a single soul. They didn’t mention it during their daily conversations or hinted at it while amongst friends. 

They continued on as usual - spending an afternoon together, getting take out or going to see a movie, but more often then not, the evenings ended with Harry and Hermione in bed. 

Or Harry pinned to the floor in Hermione’s sitting room. 

Or Hermione up against the wall in the hallway. 

Both found themselves late to their respective Christmas dinners, swearing they’d never slip again, or else they’d accidentally disclose to their families what they were doing. 

Hermione had to hide numerous love bites. Harry needed to cover up scratch marks. 

They spent the early hours of the new year locked up in Hermione’s bedroom, sheets strewn across the floor. 

The celebrated Hermione’s work anniversary first on her small loveseat, then on her bed, and repeated the celebration on her dining table. 

They had sex. They fucked. They shared intimate details and dealings and buried away each other’s secrets. 

Like the way, Hermione shivered when Harry dragged his teeth down her throat or how she liked her hair pulled. 

Or how Harry wanted to try being blind-folded every now and then or whenever he asked her to hold his wrists down to the bed. 

Secrets. Sex. Just the two of them. 

6

.

.

.

5

.

.

4

.

.

3

.

.

2

.

.

1

.

.

0

.

.

Until it wasn’t. 

.

.

1

.

.

2


End file.
